Just A Note

If you know me at all or have read my blog very often, you know that I love music. I love to sing. I love to listen. I love rock and gospel and country and jazz and classical. I love that my boys love music. I love that my husband knows all the lyrics, artists and titles to pretty much any song recorded in the 80's. I love to sing in the car and have often gotten funny looks from those stopped beside me at stoplights because I will sing my heart out if it's the right song. I have sung to my children their entire lives and would make up lullabies for them in the middle of those long nights of infanthood. We sing before bed. We sing while we do chores. We sing together at church. Music has always been a part of my life.

You know how they say smells bring back memories. For me it's music. If I hear old gospel music, it reminds me of my grandpa who was always singing and playing records of southern gospel groups. And of Sunday mornings when I was a teenager and my dad would play gospel songs on the record player while we got ready for church. If I hear "Santa Baby" and "Thistlehair the Christmas Bear" I think of my sister and how we sat one day and recorded Christmas songs off the radio and how we have listened to that tape every year since then. If I hear "Just The Way You Are" by Billy Joel, it reminds me of the last high school choir concert of my sophomore year. I had just found out that I had made jazz choir for the following year and was so excited to be a part of the group that was singing that song. And if I hear "Mack the Knife" or "Good Day Sunshine" I remember those early morning choir classes and the fun we had performing. When I hear "When I'm With You" I remember falling in love with my husband and how that totally awesome 80's song was our song. If I hear "Open My Eyes" I think of my wedding day and how the hot candle wax dripped on my thumb during the candle lighting and Arrty told me that it would be okay. And I knew that it would be. If I hear "Cowboy Take Me Away" I think of Josh as a baby and how I would sing that song to him as I held him in my arms and danced around the living room. And how I did the same with Adam when I heard the song "Wrapped Up In You." When I hear "Here I Am To Worship" I think of the Saturday when I attended Women Of Faith and cried because it was five days after my car accident and I was truly glad to be there to worship.

I've learned that I can't sing when I'm depressed. And that I sing louder when I'm especially happy. I've learned that music can say things that I just don't have the right words for. I've learned that music can calm a crying child and bring laughter to the whole family. I've learned that music can bring people together like nothing else.

And I've learned that no matter where I am and what's happening in my life, music will be a part of it. Even if it's only in my heart.