This is among my very earliest memories: my father carrying me in his arms, rocking me, and singing this to me: You Are My Sunshine. And if I tried to sing it now, wit you well, it would make me cry. I dassn’t even play it on my harmonica.
I had these fantods, see, of undefined scary things assembling outside my bedroom window and whispering evilly among themselves, just waiting for me to fall asleep so they could come in and get me. So Daddy had to come and calm me down, which of course he always did.
I hope he knows how much I miss him.
And now I have to stop, because it’s getting to me.