R is for Rose Tattoo

There's nothing like hearing children singing, in their tiny, piping voices, the songs of their childhood.  Of course, here in DaVurLand, my stalkers-in-training do things, pretty much everything, a little differently.  Case in point: the most requested song in our house is currently Rose Tattoo by Dropkick Murphy's. It's a great song. It's a great beat. The cover art for this album is so popular that fans were getting it tattooed on their persons before the album was released. Yeah. They're awesome. In the song he walks the listener through the reasons for all of his tattoos. Here, just give it a listen, then we will catch back up.

So yeah. Awesome song, good hard beat. And it's Irish Rock. But to me, there's so much more than that going on.
One of the single most influential people in my life was my Great-Grandma. Her name was Leona, but I always called her Mammy Noon because when she would come in the door or I would go to her house, she would always exclaim "Good Afternoon." Mammy Noon was the best that my infant mouth could make of that. I spent countless hours with her, learning how to make mud pies, learning to crochet, designing my own recipes that she's always let me bake. She taught me how to cook and how to quilt. She and I would play gypsy, dragging her bag of jewels from room to room. She taught me about history and about God and about the joy of simple living. She is in so many ways responsible for who I am and how I live today. But she was more than that. She taught me unconditional love. No matter how badly I messed up, and believe me there was a decade there where I messed up plenty, I could go to her house and rest my head on her knee, or run the wrinkled, crepey skin of her hand and know that it was all okay. That I was loved.  She taught me about the black and white nature of life. even though she would love conditionally, there was no doubt that there was such thing an absolute truth, as moral standards. It didn't mean that we were "bad" or should be lectured if we didn't follow them, but they were there. She taught me about hospitality, true hospitality, and it's importance in the world. She was my Polaris, my guiding star and I have to admit now, a few years after her death, I'm still kinda lost without her. Mammy Noon had roses. She had these pink rosebushes that would bloom from March to October - IN MICHIGAN. Where it snows pretty much from October to April. More than once I saw her roses blooming in the snow. And so, I want my own rose tattoo. One to remind me of my Mammy Noon.  A Southern Gospel fan, I'm sure Mammy Noon would be a little horrified that this song reminds me of her.  But even in that, it would make her smile that twinkly-eyed smile of hers.

What song has powerful memories for you?