Before I left her
for another life
with parents and sisters,
pop music and Radio Luxembourg,
she gave me
‘Listen with Mother’ stories
and old songs from the music hall.
When I returned, feeling unwanted,
she ironed while I twiddled the dial,
found midday comedies and quizzes,
and afternoon plays
for when it rained.
I still listen while I iron,
smoothing out life’s creases.
Kim M. Russell, 25th November 2020

My response to Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #47: Meme Madness
Rommy is back this Wednesday with a tricky prompt. She wants us to think about the things we learned to love because we loved someone else. We can approach this prompt from our actual experiences or write from the perspective of a fictional character.
Looking back at the past I don’t think we are much happier now. In fact I often wish for those long last days.
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Me too, Robin.
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The images feel as clear as the black and white photo…sharp and vivid
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Thank you Jae.
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Lovely story, and great last line.
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Thank you, Rosemary.
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Yesterday i happened upon an episode of the (ancient) Red Skelton (TV) comedy show, and my (long-deceased) grandmother was instantly (though only briefly) resurrected. Thanks, KR.
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They stay with us, don’t they Ron?
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I love how grandma and her radio shows feel like a safe harbor of coziness when the world outside is dreary. I don’t have any shared memories like that, but sometimes when I listen to a podcast I recall images of people gathering around their radio to enjoy the show. and for some reason it cheers me to think that I’m doing something similar. It really does make housework (and some hard says) go down a little smoother.
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Thank you, Rommy.
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“I still listen while I iron,
smoothing out life’s creases.”
Gorgeous poetry Kim
Much🖤love
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Thank you, Gillena, with love xx
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Ironing is almost a lost art today. I recall the subtle satisfaction of completing the task, however. You’ve captured that so well.
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Thank you, Bev.
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Your sweet poetry brought back wonderful warm memories of my Mother ironing, puttering about while she listened to soap operas, fifteen minutes long, on our radio. Young Dr. Malone, Helen Trent ….. thank you for writing this one.
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Thanks Helen!
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That brought back memories, of both my mother and her mother. Your photo as well as the poem. My mother ironed on Tuesdays. Mondays were for washing. I loved the smell of ironing, she sprinkled the clothes with water from an old glass Coke bottle fitted with a sprinkler top, I guess an ironing accessory of the day, rolled them up to wait their ironing turn. The hot iron on the damp clothes was wonderful. I could hardly wait to be old enough to iron. Then I was, I did my fathers hankies! Then I learned it wasn’t all that fun. I don’t even own an iron now!
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I only iron while the afternoon play is on. 🙂
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For me, it was Sunday afternoon Jazz on my grandfather’s transistor radio listening to Glenn Miller and Artie Shaw. When I was young I used to hate that we couldn’t listen to a pop music station but now I love and miss it. Sunday’s are now spent listening to big band jazz.
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My grandparents love Glenn Miller too. That big band sound is comforting. I remember watching The Glenn Miller Story with them on their black and white television.
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My sister and I would listen to our radio when Mom and Dad would go to town for their lodge meetings. One of the programs that we could listen too had a creeping squeeky doir sliwly openning. That got us to scared to listen to the mystery program.
We were good at remembering the station it was tuned to so that we would set it back in before we shut the radio off.
..
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I still love scary radio plays and stories, Jim!
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