Little Lithuanian, a song composed for my stepmother in 1979
While trying to go to sleep a while ago, I thought of a song I wrote for my stepmother back in 1979. Titled Little Lithuanian, it hasn't crossed my mind for at least a decade. Isn't it strange what surfaces when you're not quite ready to drift off?
My stepmother was abusive. If you've read either of my memoirs, Reversible Skirt and Resilient Ruin, you'll likely recall what kind of parent she was. Even now I sometimes find it unfathomable why she behaved so horribly.
Wouldn't it be a better world if all parents chose to follow the Hippocratic Oath and first do no harm?
A troubled soul, my stepmother did the opposite. She was primarily Lithuanian with a little Polish and Russian thrown in. My sisters and I are mostly Irish. She was just under 5 feet tall; I'm 5 feet 7 inches, and my sisters are even taller. She was shrill; we are quiet, too quiet.
I don't know if ethnicity had anything to do with how poorly we mixed, but whatever the reasons, we were not of the same ilk. Nevertheless, my overriding feelings for my long-deceased abuser are those of forgiveness.
Here are the lyrics:
Little Lithuanian
Little Lithuanian
A babushka
Blowin' in the breeze
Gets my knees tremblin'
For memories
Within me
Within me
You gathered dandelions
For our salad
Early in the day
I'd walk away laughin'
As my friends would say
She is strange
She is strange
Little Lithuanian
Tired peasant
Through the rust of years
Let your fears go now
I will dry your tears
Love is here
Love is here
Laura McHale, 1979
Photo of leprechauns by Enda GuinanPhoto of babushka dolls by Paul KellerPhoto of woman wearing babushka by christheobscure