Patsy Cline lived in our house for many years … mostly at night.
My mom had a bit of a hard life. My dad was … not the best dad … and for some years he had trouble finding his way home.
My dad would go out for a haircut and sometimes come home three days later. While waiting, my mom would sit in the front room with a pack of cigarettes and a few beers. The lights would be out. The only light would be from the tip of her cigarette. Always and always there would be music playing ever so gently — and it would be either Patsy Cline or Jim Reeves.