Song 392 – No One To Call Me Son

By August 25, 2018Songs

Andrea was born in Provo, spent a few years in Iran, while her Dad was helping set up a Women’s College for the Shah of Iran, and spent much of her life on 580 West in Cedar City, Utah, across from Cedar High School. The lady who lived in the corner house was Jane, who had children Andrea’s age, whose husband died, and who remarried Bob Crane. Bob wrote the poem this song is based on. Since we have been here, Bob and Jane have lived in the unit at the east end of the street in front of our townhome. So, of course, I have got to know Bob and Jane at the mailbox and at church. For some reason, in the middle of 2016, Jane mentioned to me that Bob had written a wonderful poem called “No One To Call Me Son.” This sounded interesting, and so I asked for a copy. She provided me a copy and I put the poem to music. When Andrea was out of town visiting kids in Salt Lake, I moved the step ladder into the living room and recorded the song for Bob and Jane. I gave them three versions of the video recording. I think this was the first time I recorded a song on my cell phone in our new house in Cedar City. To give context, let me mention Andrea is not very fond of the time I spend playing the guitar and working on my songs and psalms. Her first husband, Rick or Eric Nielson, took the family to California so he could go to a guitar school. After a few years back in American Fork, he wanted to go back for additional guitar schooling. Andrea basically told him, he needed to figure out a way to pay for 3 children and her, while he went to school, or not go to school. There is a lot of emotion tied up with the guitar. One interesting thing is because Andrea was a Nielson, she had to give up an “i” to marry me. Another is I record songs when she is not at home, and upload them and build the web pages when she is doing other things. I do enjoy this project, and I do not want to do this work in a way which is offensive to her. She sort-of puts up with my openness, and my willingness to write about personal things, like this diversion from writing about Bob Crane’s poem. I really like the poem. It highlights the importance of family and family relationships. It highlights the special bond there is between parents and those whom they call their “son.” Over the years, since Matt was 11-years-old, and moved to Texas and to 1307 Emerald Green, it has become a joy and an honor to call him “son.” There are those who do not seem to want to be a member of my family, either now or in eternity, and still, I am honored to call them my “son.” I feel like I let them down, and yet I do not understand how I let them down. Oh well! Maybe I did not say “shape up Son” enough. Hopefully as they grow up they will see I’ve “learned quite a bit.” It is true “I worked hard,” and yet not a fraction as hard as my Dad. One of the nice things about moving back to Cedar is random discussions with old family friends who point out how “proud” Mom and Dad were to have me as their son. “But when my mother passed away, I felt lost and sad, But she really needed, To go and be with Dad.” “They’re both gone now, Their jobs all done, There’s no one left on earth, Just to call me “Son”.” “It fills my heart with so much pride, And makes me feel so glad, When my grandkid’s call me “Grandpa,” And my daughters call me “Dad.” I love to watch them grow, Learn and play and have a lot of fun, But there’s no one left around, Just to call me “son”.” I find the last verse particularly touching: “One day he’ll call my name, And catch me on the run, I pray to see once more the ones, Who called me “Son”.”

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