This morning I woke up with my grandpa's voice singing a medley of Credence Clearwater Revival songs in my head. He sang "Looking Out My Back Door" and "Up Around the Bend" and, just as I was waking up, "Bad Moon Rising."
Of course he didn't sing the right words to "Bad Moon Rising." He never did. He loved mistaken lyrics.
I think in some families this would be a disturbing experience, but I found it very comforting. Settling.