by Donna Conaway, Malvern, PA

My father passed away in 1971 and left my mother, at the age of 38, with 4 children aged 15, 14, 13, and 10. The year after his death, my mother bought a large, green Plymouth station wagon, which my teenage brothers promptly filled with their friends. It was not uncommon to see my mother pulling out of the driveway in this green behemoth with 8 to 10 boys crammed into the back seat and cargo area, and the radio blasting out the open windows.

That same summer, Mungo Jerry’s “In the Summertime” was still topping the local playlists and there was one afternoon that I looked out the kitchen window just in time to see my mother pull into the driveway with the customary carload of teens all singing along at the top of their voices “in the summertime, when the weather is hot…”

My mother parked the car and kept it running with the radio still blasting. No one got out. The singing continued, “have a drink, have a drive, go out and see what you can find….”

And there they sat, my mother gripping the steering wheel as the car rocked in time to the music, her eyes closed, singing as loudly as the boys behind her, “We’re always happy, life’s for livin’ yeah that’s our philosophy…”

I think that’s when I really understood that we’d be alright.