It was common practice for a captain to name his vessel after his wife and/or daughters. My grandfather was a Lunenburg sea captain, my uncle worked with the Coast Guard; the North Atlantic ocean is a tough place to make a living.

The song is also inspired by witnessing women who, like the fictional Lillie, suffer from dementia that short-circuits their memory of losing a loved one (heartbreaking to be reminded again and again; often a kind lie is the better choice).

Lyrics

The Lillie Lorraine

Lillie stands at the end of the pier, with a kerosene light, every other Tuesday night.
Won’t be long now ‘til he will appear.
As still as a canvass on an easel,
she listens for the sound of the diesel
of The Lillie Lorraine.

It’s been the same as long as they’ve been together.
She waves him good-bye, good luck and good weather.
But their hearts never part, not for a moment.
Two weeks later, she’ll be back waiting
in the same spot she stood when he sailed.

The rhythm of the fisherman, of tides and tall tales,
a love pure as poetry, in a life hard as nails.
And their treasures were many, on the shores of salt water,
with gifts of the ocean and a beautiful daughter.

Lillie stands at the end of the pier.

There’s a night that her memory won’t hold on to;
the radio said a ship is in trouble in a gale off of Sable Island.
Lillie walked from the room, made her tea, took her broom
swept the kitchen and hummed an old song.

Now she peers through the mist in the harbor.
She holds her lantern to help guide him in.
She doesn’t hear the footsteps behind her.
Lorraine takes her hand and says,
“Come on Mama, it’s cold and it’s time to go home. “

Lillie stands at the edge of the pier, with a kerosene light, every other Tuesday night.
Won’t be long now ‘til he will appear.
As still as a canvass on an easel,
she listens for the sound of the diesel
of The Lillie Lorraine.

MY COLLECTIBLES
© Sharon Lucy Nauss-Hughes