I joke around and say that the day I arrive to heaven the first thing Timile Brown is going to do when she sees me is punch me. Why? Because of how I raised Cydney. I think she would be very tickled by our daughter’s personality. However, her personality suggests that she is a little girl version of me. So as entertained as Timile would be, Cydney had acquired all of the traits her mother couldn’t stand about me.
While Cydney is my mini-me, I think that she and her mother are kindred spirits. I mostly see these glimpses of this essence when I play songs for Cydney that Timile loved. We had very different tastes in music, so the songs I tend to play are ones palatable to my ears.
In 2008 or 2009 Timile flew from Atlanta to Buffalo to attend a cousin’s wedding. When she came back home she said that we had to stop by Best Buy to pick up Ashanti’s latest album, The Declaration because her cousin Mashia had been playing it all weekend so she wanted to play it repeatedly
and annoy my ears with that girly crap.
The one song she’d play over and over again was “Good Good.” It was a catchy tune that consisted of an E Major 7 and G Major 9 chords. It was simple, bright, and bouncy…it was a good spring song that embodied the early June when she’d run the song through the ground. While I’d be driving, Timile would bounce, and sing along while looking at me inferring that what she has is so good I’m not going anywhere.
About a month ago I was driving Cydney to soccer. It was one of the first nice days of the spring and the song had popped into my head out if nowhere. Probably because fee weather outside felt like a day that Timile would have played “Good Good.” So I pulled it up in Spotify and was curious what Cydney would think.
I know when Cydney is into a song. Within first listen she tries to mumble and sing along. There’s a delayed mentioning of whatever the last word the artists sing that Cydney does as well. Within the second or third listen her timing is perfect and before you know it she knows the chorus by heart. I could hear Cydney utter “Good good. Good good.” Then she’d ask me to play it again. By the fourth go round, my four year old with perfect tone and inflection sang “When my man ain’t home I know he’s coming back. I got that good good. I got that good good!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Cydney had no idea what she was singing but she performed as if she did. I smiled a little to myself because I knew that moment was all Timile. And then I really laughed because I knew Timile would punch me for playing this for our daughter.