A 1964 chart topping hit song written and performed by Gale Garnett. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1w9gb9ZEvMs)
I don’t remember if I ever heard this song on the radio. Like on the classic station, or oldies, or 60s station on Sirius XM radio. Maybe the 60s station plays it, but I rarely listen to that one. The time I remember hearing it the most is when I was in 6th grade (1973-74). I played the 45 record on a little cream and red-colored record player that I had in the basement of our home on Belford Ave in Grand Junction, Colorado.
Grand Junction
We had lived in the same house in Grand Junction in 1967-68 during Daddy’s tour in Vietnam. After he returned, we moved in late 1968 to Conway, Arkansas. We returned to the same house in Grand Junction in August 1972.
There are many memories for me of this house as it represents a time of heaviness, heartache, and childhood confusion. I remember playing the song over and over because maybe, in my little young subconscious mind, I wanted it to be so very true.
“We’ll sing in the sunshine, we’ll laugh every day. We’ll sing in the sunshine, then I’ll be on my way.”
I played that record over and over. I danced and sang my little heart out in my fancy yellow taffeta and lace costume dress my grandmother had given me until all my cares melted away. Until the sadness and heaviness of the house was kept away by the invisible bubble I manufactured to surround me. The soulful sound of the music and lyrics were comforting to me for some reason. Kids make believe a lot – as is normal and healthy. I had to make believe just to keep going sometimes.
Song and Sadness
I remember playing this song the day Daddy left again to move back to Arkansas in the fall of 1973. My mom, sister, and I remained in Grand Junction. One of several separations that I experienced, I clearly remember the pangs of sadness the day Daddy came to tell me good-bye.
Daddy came down to the basement where I had a play area set up with my record player and 45s. I stopped dancing when Daddy came down. Surely I tried to smile at him even though we both knew he had come to say good-bye. Again. He hugged me, kissed me on the top of my head, and told me it really wouldn’t be for long this time. He promised. But he really didn’t know. I really didn’t know what was going on…just that he wasn’t happy here and mom wasn’t happy here or anywhere it seemed to me then.
A child’s view on her parents struggling with marriage, with then unrecognized/unidentified post-traumatic stress syndrome, with a love that bound them while also tearing them apart. A child doesn’t know, but a child feels it nonetheless.
After Daddy said good-bye, he went back upstairs. I cried and I played the song and I danced and I cried some more. I had no idea at that age what the song lyrics were really saying. It just helped to define for me what I was feeling…what all the goodbyes in my short young life had made me feel. I loved being in that basement bubble where I could pretend to be someone else.
What I Didn’t Know
Of course, I didn’t know then that Daddy had survived the Korean War (particularly the Chosin Reservoir campaign) and the Vietnam War and all the horrors. I didn’t know in my little mind about the turmoil in our nation and the burdens that so many veterans carried, and still do. All I knew was that Daddy was just that – Daddy. He carried much as did my mother while they tried to find their way after a man experiences and witnesses what he had to in both wars.
After researching the song, I see it holds sentimental value to many people. Looking at the comments with the YouTube video, that is quite evident. I had never looked it up before writing this piece. I listened to the song while I finished editing the post.
Now that Daddy has gone on, maybe he and I can dance to it when I meet him again in the hereafter. I’ll step on his feet and let him lead me around in the dance like he used to do when I was a little girl.
“We’ll sing in the sunshine. We’ll laugh everyday.”