This Old Man

I keep this photo next to my bed - I'm about 4 years old here

God knows what's going on with my subconscious, but I'm up in the wee hours with this song from my childhood on repeat:

This old man, he plays one
He plays knick knack on my thumb
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays two
He plays knick knack on my shoe
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays three
He plays knick knack on my knee
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays four
He plays knick knack on my door
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays five
Don't play knick knack on that hive
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays six
He plays knick knack on my sticks
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays seven
He plays knick knack up in heaven
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays eight
He plays knick knack on my gate
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays nine
He plays knick knack on my vine
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

This old man, he plays ten
He plays knick knack all over again
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home

Strange. Can't really explain it, other than that two days ago I did a guided meditation where people from your childhood who you need to forgive or who need to forgive you show up. The people who showed up for me were not the ones I'd have expected. Not my sister or any of my close friends, but other kids from my neighborhood and/or elementary school.

My lower back really hurts too - another reason for the early morning wakeup, and also pain that can be connected to the inner child.

I love you little Sarah, now go back to sleep please!

Maybe

I went to see a production of Annie this weekend, because my boss's daughter was cast as Annie. I was excited to see her perform and also to touch back to what was my favorite of all the plays/musicals that my parents took us to when we were kids. I remember going to Indianapolis to see it, absolutely loving it, and singing the songs for years afterward.

Watching the musical, I got particularly teared up when Annie sang this number:

Maybe far away
Or maybe real nearby
He may be pouring her coffee
She may be straighetning his tie
Maybe in a house
All hidden by a hill
She's sitting playing piano
He's sitting paying a bill

Betcha they're young
Betcha they're smart
Bet they collect things
Like ashtrays, and art

Betcha they're good
Why shouldn't they be?
Their one mistake
Was giving up me

So maybe now it's time,
And maybe when I wake
They'll be there calling me baby
Maybe

Betcha he reads
Betcha she sews
Maybe she's made me
A closet of clothes
Maybe they're strict
As straight as a line...
don't really care
As long as they're mine
So maybe now this prayer's
The last one of it's kind...
Won't you please come get your baby

I think the tears were from a little girl inside me that hoped someone would come and get me, or at least that my own parents would come to life and fully embody themselves, and love me like I needed and deserved to be loved...

Maybe