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| This was just one of the Glen Campbell records my Mom would play on Sunday mornings when she was making Sunday dinner, which we ate at noon.
Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Satisfied_Mind_(album)
(may be subject to copyright)
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I have very vivid memories of Sunday mornings growing up on the farm,
from the time I was about eight years old until I was 16.
And those memories are punctuated by a soundtrack of songs. Hearing
any one of those songs, or artists, brings them back.
Headlining the pack is Glen Campbell and his signature song,
“Rhinestone Cowboy.”
Aufstehen!
It always started the same way. I would be sleeping soundly in my bedroom
when suddenly the world changed. Simultaneously, the lights would go on, my
covers would be pulled off and my Dad would be barking, “Aufstehen!” That’s
German for “Get up!” It was always this frontal assault of all my senses.
It meant in about 15 minutes we were heading to Coaldale and St.
Ambrose, the Roman Catholic Church that was our spiritual home not just through
the 80s, but the 60s, 70s and right into the 90s.
Mom always had my Sunday clothes set out for me, and my Dad was always
already dressed when he woke me. He was a sharp dressed man who always sported
a suit and tie for Sunday Mass.
Some of my fondest memories are on the drive to Coaldale. Sometimes
Dad would tell me stories about growing up in Germany. Sometimes he’d answer
questions because even then I was a curious kid. Sometimes I would just read.
At church, we always sat in the same pew about halfway between front
and back, on the right side of the church. Even now, wherever I go to Mass, I
sit on the right side. It just seems more comfortable. It was always the same
too. At the other end of the pew were two widowers in their 70s, maybe 80s.
They were two German men Dad knew – Mr. Macht and Mr. Rach.
After Mass, we pretty much left right away, just staying long enough
to say hello to our friends and neighbours like the Uytdewilligens, Keujers and
Eringfelds.
Home front
Meanwhile, Mom was busy at home. She was Lutheran, and had no way
to go to church, so she stayed home and made Sunday dinner. For us Germans,
Sunday dinner was at noon, not at 6 p.m.
Often, she would dress up too, in a dress usually. Looking back, it
was probably because company often came Sunday afternoons, and she always
wanted to look her best.
For that reason, she would wear an apron so she would not stain or ruin
her clothes.
The TV was never on either. Partly because, with peasant vision, there
really was nothing to watch in the three-channel universe. Sometimes, she had
the radio set to George Brown and his “Musical Memories” on 1220 CJOC.
More often, Mom had her record player going.
That’s when we came home.
Musical memories
Mom had her favourites. At the top of the list was “Rhinestone Cowboy”
by Glen Campbell, but there was a lot more. She loved Jim Reeves, Roger
Whittaker, Marty Robbins, Nat King Cole, John Denver and the German child
singer Heintje.
By the time we got home, dinner was just going on the table, so the
music stopped.
After we ate, we often lazed on the couch, watching whatever was on
TV. My grandparents on my Mom’s side; or Uncle Ed, Aunt Johanna and cousins Nina and Carl: or Uncle
Witold and Aunt Lotta would invariably come by, and the afternoon was spent
visiting.
Parting thoughts
When Glen Campbell died, I jotted his name down to do a blog post, but
nothing came to mind. Awhile later, I bought his autobiography “Rhinestone
Cowboy” at a second-hand store in High River, and read that about a year ago. Still,
nothing came to mind. Then, about a week and a half ago, we had a yard sale
because we are cleaning out my Mom’s house in Lethbridge. My brother put her
records on a table and I flipped through them. There, staring me in the face
was Glen Campbell, and Nat King Cole, and John Denver.
I picked up the Glen Campbell album, turned it over in my hands, and that’s
when it all came back – the music, and the memories of Sunday mornings.
It was a great way to grow up.
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