So much for the whole "no long posts until I get some serious studying done" plan. Even as I pore over primary sources, blog-worthy thoughts keep bubbling up. And this one has been screaming to be written for over a week.
When I first read Her Bad Mother's "Of a Joy Which Can't Be Words" post, a song started playing in my head, completely unbidden. I had to stay very still, let it work its way out of my subconscious, grapple for the words, as it had been a very long time since I heard it:
When blood sees blood of its own
It sings to see itself again
It sings to hear the voice it's known
It sings to recognize the face
Suzanne Vega's "Blood Sings" from 99.9 F (1992--really? I've owned this CD for 14 years?).
Even as I wrote my response to HBM, the song was on continuous loop in my mind. Now for anyone who hasn't heard it, it's a very slow, almost mournful song. Like so many of the songs on this particular album, most of the verses are about being disconnected, recognizing the distance, knowing that you don't quite fit. And yet, these verses capture, in a way that I'm not sure my much longer original post did, my connection with my son.