Beauty of the Autumn

Before Kim & I were married (and for several years after, until their deaths), we spent a lot of time with an elderly couple named Gene and June Covey. There are not words to say how much we loved them, and how much we knew they loved us right back.  June could not see, and she could barely walk, but she would hobble over to the electric piano in her living room and become a different person. She pounded out boogies and old tunes she once played for silent movies. Gene would often accompany her with his violin. (Don't anyone dare call it his fiddle!) She was sweet and kind and spunky, and she kept Gene in line when he got a little cantankerous. I can still hear her sweet voice chiding him, saying, "Now, DEAREST." She was so sweet, she even forgave me when I put a pineapple rind down her garage disposal, backing up all their plumbing. One of the most difficult things we were ever asked to do was sing for her funeral a song she would always ask us to sing during a visit: "It Matters to Him About You." We bawled through the entire thing, and I am sure it sounded awful, but she had made us promise, so we did it for her. We still carry that sheet music around with us---it is one of our cherished possessions, with her handwritten notes.

It is not too difficult to see how or current culture wants to divide the old and the young, invalidating wisdom and experience in favor of the newest things to come down the pike. I wrote this song during our time with Gene and June, in honor of them, and I will cherish the moments we spent with them always. As we watch our own grandchildren growing up way too fast and we watch ourselves morphing into the "older" category, this song takes on even more meaning to us.

Do not let the rat race of life force you to trade what is valuable for what seems important. Slow down. Cherish those in their autumn years ... yours will be here before you know it! Gene and June, in their 80s, impacted our lives like no one else ... without even leaving their home. Some of our happiest times in life were in their small, cramped living room, just enjoying each other's company.

For those of you who made it this far, we included a little "Easter egg" at the end of this video. When you see a video appear over the photo of us together (during the instrumental interlude at the very end), click on it before it disappears, and you can see a video of these wonderful folks joining me in playing "Jesus Loves Me."

To listen to this song, click below: