Music is a crucial part of my life. Do I play an instrument? No. Can I read music? Yes, a bit. Do I sing? Badly. But, music feeds my soul. Without it, my world would be empty. Most days, I would rather enjoy music than any other form of entertainment.
In my teaching days, I would have some kind of music playing most of the day. Instrumental only, the best pieces had a rhythm the same pace as a resting heartbeat. Music played during our writing time. One day, sweet Sarah came to me with a comment about the music. “Mrs. Hurt, the music helps the words come out of my fingers.” Yes, it does, Sarah. From my fingers, too.
VST and I met because of our love for music and a need to fill an elective in high school. In choir, he was a bass, me, a soprano. This was only because my blond roots didn’t possess the ability to harmonize as altos do. My fondest memories involve the beginning of class when he and his football buddies would come tumbling in, still moist from their PE showers. VST always had the sweetest smile. His tousled hair had the slightest curl to it. Odd, because by the time I met him later in life, his hair had no curl at all. He was a happy jock, later in life, to become a serious intellect.
VST was a purest when it came to music. He wanted his Country Western, and that was it. After his death, I listened to my fair share of Willie’s Roadhouse, remembering with each song all the miles we spent together in the RV. The thing about Country Western music is that the lyrics can be totally silly or trite, but, they can also be so tender. Many times, driving back and forth to retrieve my packing boxes while talking to VST, just the right song would come on. Sometimes, this would bring laughter, but more often it would bring tears. I need to be in the right frame of mind for Willie’s these days. It’s a trigger that can still bring on the ugly cry with the first note of a favorite song.
My favorite types of music don’t involve Country Western at all. On a good day, I listen to a variety of smooth jazz, 70’s and 80’s music, and what the kids, (who are not kids but adults), refer to as my funeral music. This music came into our lives when we got Oliver. VST was NOT a dog person. But when furry little Oliver came to live with us, he amplified a tender and sweet side is us both. VST found a channel that had very soft instrumental music that seemed to soothe our little puppy. From then on, this was referred to as “Oliver’s Music”. To this day, I enjoy this channel as much as Oliver does.
VST told me he had a list of favorite music on his computer should the unthinkable happen, He was still healthy and IT was never going to. When the unthinkable DID happen, I went to his computer and spent a long, long time looking for this file. To my shock and dismay, there was no file, and the memorial was in a week. We needed a play list for the luncheon after the service. My creativity was at an all time low, but, I knew I had to get this just right. So, I began to think back to all the best times in the rig, and the songs that played.
As I picked through U-Tube, the songs started coming to life with videos. I spent a long afternoon crying and listening to lyrics that took me back to times with my sweet VST. Although a tough afternoon, I felt like we were together for one last trip, one last song. Just us two, rolling along. As the afternoon ended, I had my list of songs. I needed 45 minutes worth of music to fit with the video. So, I started adding up the lengths of the songs I had chosen through tears. When I finished, I looked at the number with amazement.
44 minutes 59 seconds. Without planning. Without rejecting one of his favorites. Just the right songs. In the right order. To say the right Good Bye.
Music. Listen today to what ever makes you feel the way you need. Really listen to lyrics you thought you knew. Let it hug you. Because it will, down to the last song.