After eleven days, I’m finally at a point where I can put into words my thoughts regarding music, death, and magical moments.
These words may seem strange put together, but they popped into my mind ten days ago when I read Missing Pieces, a very touching blog post on the Letters to Ian blog written by Ian’s mother, Blair.
At the time of finding Blair’s blog, I was responding to an assignment given by the Blogging University 101 — assignment two to be exact. We were asked to visit other participants in the Blogging 101 class and to comment on the titles and tag lines of new blogs that were starting or to comment on those revised titles and tag lines of established blogs. Blair had updated her title to I Am Still Your Mother with a subtitle of Don’t you give me that look…
The second I read her title and tagline, I wanted to read her blog. I could so hear those words being said to me when I was growing up. I also knew I had said them myself to our daughter. I had even said them years ago to my little brothers when we were growing up in an orphanage (more about that in another post sometime). Of course, when I said those words to my brothers, it was more like screaming, and I said, “I’m your sister. And, you better not give me that look again!”
Reading Blair’s letter to Ian, Missing Pieces, took me back to feeling the grief and pain I had not felt for a while. Her letter reminded me of the magnitude of the loss of my youngest brother, Ralph, at the age of twenty-five in 1982, due to a motorcycle accident. He loved to listen to Queen, which was the artist Blair shared as she recounted the memory of listening to several of Queen’s songs with her son, Ian in a letter she writes him.
And, I felt the surge of grief and pain increase when I read the words from We are the Champions, which was a huge favorite of Ralph’s. Life being what it is, I began to think about music and how it affects our lives in so many ways.
Just as quickly, my mind took me to the memory, pain and loss of two nephews, Josh and Justin. Both were killed in a car accident in 2007. This time Creed’s With Arms Wide Open and Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Free Bird were the center pieces as our family managed somehow to maneuver through the labyrinth of a two-day funeral process. One for Justin (eighteen and two weeks away from high school graduation) followed by one for Josh (twenty-four with a free spirit).
Creed’s With Arms Wide Open youtube video:
For years after their passing, listening to music by Queen, Creed, or Lynyrd Skynyrd would cause my heart to slow a little, pain a little, and then I’d shake it off, followed with anguish over the loss. Time, as many say, has a way of helping the healing process to begin. This I know. When I hear music by Queen, Creed, or Lynyrd Skynyrd, it is as though by magic, I no longer anguish over my brother’s or my two nephews’ loss. I celebrate in the memories. I cherish the time we had. I, do, still long for more. I pray that one day we will be reunited. Until that time, I’m going to play the music, dance when it moves me, and cherish the magic it brings to my soul.
How about you? How has music, death, or magical moments touched your life?