Updated: Sep. 30, 2023
Originally Published: Aug. 22, 2015
As the familiar tune fills the car, I hear my 9-year-old daughter, Emma, plead, “Make it stop! I don’t like this song.” “Emma,” I exclaim, “it’s your song!” I can’t help but sing along to the classic refrain of “Sweet Emma.” She shakes her head defiantly from her seat, buckled in at 35 miles per hour, unable to escape the nostalgia that envelops us. I refuse to change the radio station.
Over a decade ago, shortly after a national tragedy, my parents, husband, and I attended a Neil Diamond concert, seeking comfort in the familiarity of his music. I remember my father’s excitement, high-fiving me as Diamond sang, surrounded by 20,000 fellow fans swaying to the rhythm. The joy was palpable, a moment of pure bliss.
Just two weeks later, my world shattered when my father, my hero, was diagnosed with brain tumors. The darkness that followed was overwhelming. In a desperate attempt to lift his spirits, I reached out to a former colleague, securing a signed letter from President Bush. The overnight letter brought a smile to his face, a reminder of his strength. “He’s a good man, isn’t he, Jenna?” my dad asked. I thought, “No, you are the good man. This isn’t fair.” He passed away six months later in a stark hospital room.
Initially attributing my fatigue to grief, I soon discovered I was also pregnant. As I navigated the emotional storm, I found solace in my impending motherhood. I unearthed the infant car seat and familiar bedtime stories like Goodnight Moon. Memories of my father flooded back, and I was grateful for the pregnancy that brought moments of calm amidst the tears.
When my daughter arrived a month early, we hadn’t chosen a name. She lay unnamed in the hospital, and I wanted something that honored my father. After much deliberation, I decided on “Emma,” a name that symbolized the last precious memory I shared with Dad.
As she grew, Emma would joyously sing along to “Sweet Emma,” exclaiming, “I came down from heaven as Papa was going up!” However, as time passed—perhaps influenced by my letter to Neil Diamond, which he graciously acknowledged—she began to resist the song.
Now, at this developmental crossroads between childhood and adolescence, I recognize the signs of her distancing from me. In this moment, I want to impart wisdom to her: One day, you will hear this song in a bar, and the echoes of “SO GOOD, SO GOOD” will resonate with others, creating a bond that transcends generations.
I can hardly believe you tried to sell Neil Diamond’s greatest hits at our garage sale. I wish you could have met your grandpa, Emma. You inherited his love for music and his vibrant spirit. But for now, I watch you from the rearview mirror, searching for something else on your iPod, and I remind myself that change is part of growing up.
Summary: This narrative reflects on the emotional journey of a mother as she navigates the complexities of grief and motherhood. Through the lens of music, particularly the songs that connect her to her late father, she contemplates her daughter’s growing independence and the bittersweet memories that shape their relationship. The song “Sweet Emma” serves as a bridge between past and present, illustrating the enduring bond of family and the passage of time.