• The Night That Parent Guilt Survived

The Night That Parent Guilt Survived

20160718 kr blog dar williams

Last night, my older daughter and I had a moment. And lost a moment.

Researching from different computers, each in our own bedroom and without having discussed it first, we both suddenly realized that we had missed our annual mother-daughter Dar concert. (That’s Dar Williams. If you don’t know her, you should.) And there would be no Tom Chapin concert this summer either.

No Dar. No Tom Chapin.

Let me tell you right here, right now: the grief in the unintentional breaking of this tradition was intense. It was as if our memories would now be taken from us as well. It was as if, there were audible “what ifs” playing “round robin” in our heads, like we had walked under a ladder with the black cat.

What does it mean to miss the Dar concert? It’s just a concert after all.

But it is so much more than that.

And, summer might as well be done because – to be clear – there is nothing that we can do together before my daughter leaves for her junior year in college that will renew that Dar - Chapin - mother - daughter bond in the same way.


Since my daughter was a toddler, we’d see Dar every summer. And we’d see Tom Chapin every year. Back then, we went as a family of four: father, mother, older daughter, younger daughter. We’d go to wherever we could see each perform, wherever it was closest to wherever we were living at that time. And yes, sometimes we’d invent reasons to travel farther and visit family if it meant that we could also sit on a picnic blanket and listen to a Dar concert under the stars or if we could dance and sing through a Tom Chapin jamboree in a large public park.

I have pictures to prove it. Those happy kid pictures that defy the other realities of our lives at the time.20160718 kr blog tom chapin 22


Then we left the country for 4 years and my older daughter played tribute to Dar by memorizing every song from low note to high. She sang her favorites at recitals to audiences of expatriates, politely clueless until the song was over and then Dar found another fan. Dar via my daughter, that is. Close enough.

And lest we be completely without great children’s music while literally half-way around the world, we brought every Tom Chapin CD with us as well. (How any parent can travel without his music always puzzles me. His music is the sanity of every car trip, minutes to hours.) I even emailed this man and pleaded with him to come to Asia and sing concerts there. If only I was a venue manager… And believe me, I tried. (Sorry, Tom.)

Tom Chapin & Band -- sadly, not in Asia


Six years ago, we returned to the States. Within months of our unexpected return, I surprised my oldest with an outing to a concert at the Keswick theater, a lovely little theater in a lovely little town. Dar was the opening act; we tried, but we didn’t stay for the featured performer. Dar was our moment: she brought my daughter and me back together in those hard, hard months when we were readjusting to the States and to our new circumstances.

By that summer, my daughters and I rediscovered our Dar and Tom Chapin venues. My girls had reached an age where they actually understood Dar’s lyrics; but at this age, they were also technically too old (says who?!) for Tom Chapin’s children’s concerts. Ha! We were where we needed and wanted to be. What mattered was being together to laugh and sing out.

We were reclaiming our lives with performers we loved. Performers who outperformed themselves. Because when the music stopped, the girls would greet these cool people offstage, talking eagerly to these famous people who looked my girls in the eye and asked questions as if they remembered my daughters from one year to the next, as if they recognized them, as if they were truly glad to see them yet again, and then wished them both well. Until next year…


But, this year, summer started when we weren’t looking. We forgot to check concert schedules. On a weird whim, my daughter and I were both discovering at the same time that Dar had sung just 2 (TWO!!) nights ago, just 3 towns over, like she has forever. But this time – without us!

Oh, the mother guilt.

What happened next was an odd throwback that made sense:

My daughter, searching our past and our present, discovered that she had missed seeing Pete Seeger at her college by one year. It was a sad moment that we shared. Missing Pete not just by a year, but forever.

I reminded her that we had seen Arlo together in October 2010. Oh yeah, that was awesome, said she.

Then she remembered a folk singer from when she was 4 years old… Woody Wolfe!!, we call out in odd unison. He was awesome, too, I said as I remembered those concerts at parks and hospital lobbies in our small town.

And then we both shout out Van Wagner!! Definitely. Van. Definitely. <insert sigh> ("North of 80 it ain't the same" ... Years later, we still agree – in harmony.)

Oh, and there were the summers of Rick Charette and Martin Swinger when we would go camping in Maine. Them, too. For sure… The music. The folk.

And in a very small way, I knew we would both miss Dar, be sad – very sad – to not have sung every song along with her, to not have said "hi" after. But I knew now for sure that no one was taking away the memories, despite how we felt.

Good memories. Those.


Music does that. It sings to those memories. It holds them. It keeps them safe inside. No matter that you didn’t see summer coming this year and messed up. Big time.

I wanted my girls to love the music of my childhood. And each has done that in her own way. My older daughter has brought folk music into her generation while straddling my generation and the generations before. My younger daughter studies music theory and finds meaning between the classical and classics; she's still grabbing for Tom's CDs and humming the songs I sang her to sleep with.

Every family should have their Dar and their Tom Chapin.

I can only hope that these musicians would both know the influence they had on their young (and old) admirers. I can only hope and say, “Thank you. See you as soon as we can. But know that we are still listening.”

That’s the love. The bond that my daughter and I will always, always share. The memories that we will always have.

Even as we solemnly promise not to miss another concert.


To Dar: So we were just wondering… At the Bryn Mawr Twilight Concert, did you cover the usual favorites? “Iowa”? “My Babysitter”? “As Cool as I Am”? And what about “FM Radio”? And your tribute song to Pete? We hope the little kids danced and twirled in the gazebo with you. Lucky them. We missed you.

To Tom: We continue to wait for you to return to this area. We'll be there when you come here.

To Arlo: Thank you. Just that. Thank you.

To Pete: Never forgotten. Still singing in our hearts.

And to Woody, Van, Rick, Martin, and the many folk artists who bring us music: You rock. Or rather... you folk! You are changing lives for the better. I know. And my daughters know.

Last modified on Monday, 18 July 2016 17:25

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