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Parenting
When Your Child’s Name Is A Bar Song
by Jenna Hart
Updated: Sep. 30, 2020
Originally Published: Aug. 22, 2015
The familiar tune fills the car as we drive. “Make it stop!” my 9-year-old pleads. “I really don’t like this song.” “Emma,” I exclaim, “it’s your song!” and I belt out the classic chorus, “Sweet Emma, good times never seemed so good.” She shakes her head vigorously from the backseat, firmly strapped in at 35 miles per hour—no escape in sight. I refuse to switch the station.
Flashback to over a decade ago, shortly after a national tragedy, when my parents, my husband, and I went to a Neil Diamond concert. We craved the comforting nostalgia that such an event provides. The ’70s hits from my childhood and the ’80s anthem “America” rang in my ears. “Jenna!” my dad called out, giving me a high-five as Diamond sang “Sweet Caroline.” Surrounded by 20,000 people clapping and singing along, I felt pure joy.
Two weeks later, my world shattered. My dad, my 58-year-old hero, was diagnosed with brain tumors caused by melanoma. Sadness engulfed us. The only thing I could offer him was a signed letter from President Bush, a gesture that brought a smile to his face. “He’s a good man, isn’t he, Jenna?” he asked after I read it to him. But in my heart, I thought, You’re the good man, Dad. This isn’t right. Make it stop.
My dad passed away six months later in a stark hospital room. I thought I was just exhausted from grief, but I soon realized I was also pregnant, having sat at my father’s bedside while carrying a new life. I pulled out the infant car seat and “Goodnight Moon” from my son’s room, allowing the pregnancy to momentarily ease my tears. I was uncertain how to manage the arrival of a baby amid my sorrow.
Nostalgia struck me like a wave: memories of my dad taking me to my first Broadway show, and that unforgettable Christmas Eve when he blasted “Midnight Train to Georgia” in the car until it shook. He should have been here with me, reveling in life’s joys—music, family, and sports.
When my daughter arrived a month early, we still hadn’t chosen a name. She lay there, unnamed while tests were conducted. We wanted to honor my dad, but “Gordon” just wouldn’t do, and “Cleveland-Teams-Who-Haven’t-Won-Any-Championships-Since-I’ve-Been-Alive” was a mouthful.
Cradling my tiny five-pounder, I felt the weight of my grief lift, even if just slightly. “How can I hurt when I’m holding you?” echoed in my mind. I noticed the colorful flowers in the room and felt my dad’s presence. It was then that I decided her name would be “Emma,” a tribute to the last joyful moment I shared with him.
As a preschooler, she sang along to the song and would excitedly announce, “I came down from heaven as Papa was going up!” But somewhere along the way—perhaps when I wrote Neil Diamond and he sent a signed photo, making her the only 3-year-old with a Neil Diamond portrait next to Elmo—she grew tired of it.
Now, as she transitions from childhood to tweenhood, I can see the existential struggle brewing. I want to tell her:
After that concert, some fans were told the Neil Diamond fan club was full. Whatever. I didn’t want to join anyway—hypothetically, of course, not that I was the one who got rejected or anything.
One day, you’ll hear this song in a bar, and the chorus will create a strange bond with other patrons, just like the words “SALT” and “PEPPER” in a Jimmy Buffett tune.
I can’t believe you even tried to sell Neil Diamond’s hits at our garage sale. I wish you had known your Papa, sweetheart. You carry his love for music and his joyful spirit.
But here we are, with her hands over her ears as the song plays on. I hold back my thoughts, instead catching her eye in the rearview mirror, recognizing her slow retreat from me. I smile at my little girl, now searching for Selena Gomez on her iPod, and softly form the words to myself: Was in the spring, and spring became a summer, who’d have believed you’d come along?
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Summary
This poignant narrative reflects on the emotional journey of a mother navigating her daughter’s transition while honoring her late father’s memory through the song “Sweet Caroline.” The bond formed through music, family, and shared experiences is central to their relationship, showcasing the bittersweet aspects of life and loss.
Keyphrase: Child’s Name as a Bar Song
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