Where does the music come from?
As you walk down memory’s trail?
Each word, each phrase, the melody,
Comes clearly without fail.
Place yourself upon the path,
You’ll know right from the start . . .
The music and the memories
Are found within your heart.
~ Sarah Hastings ~
Is it just me, or does everyone hear a soundtrack of their lives in their head? I remember events based on the song that I associate with them. My husband on the other hand, can recall the songs based on the year in which it was a hit. For me, the song doesn’t have to be from the era the event took place, it’s just a song that I heard in my head either at the time of the event or at a later recalling of the event.
I am a huge Bonnie Raitt fan. I love every song I have ever heard her perform. Maybe it is her soulfulness that gets me, but I can’t hear the song “I Can’t Make You Love Make You Love Me” without thinking of picking my broken heart up off the floor back in high school. I know she was a recording artist back then, but I hadn’t yet discovered her. So when the right time came and I heard that song, I knew exactly what memory to attach it to. And now, every time it comes on, I am instantly taken back to those emotions of a first love gone wrong (or at least to the anger stage of that mourning process).
I have a handful of friends that are “lifers,” and I know that this little quirk of mine drives them crazy. I can see it in their eyes and as they shake their heads in their total inability to grasp this thing that I do, without even really thinking about it. I can see them trying to make the connection of why that song with that memory. I feel their pain, yet it seems odd to me that their lives don’t have a soundtrack. And I am not yet convinced that it is me that is weird.
When I was working in an office, or when I’m traveling down the highway in a car or sitting at my computer at home, the music is always playing. Music, calms me, makes me laugh, gives me permission to cry or helps me vent. Passers-by can evaluate my mood based on the tunes they hear.
I am convinced that had I longed for a life in the city, and if I could have possibly peeled myself away from the rural life, I could have made my millions as a music collaborator for TV or movies. I love the movie August Rush; I can associate with the kid that hears the music all around him. There is little else like walking down the country road listening to the wind in the trees around you while recalling the most precious of moments set to the soundtrack in your mind. There are few things that speak more loudly to me than the perfect song in a scene.
While there are, I am told, a plethora of reasons why my boys won’t accompany me to a public viewing of a movie or invite friends over for a private viewing in our home, the number one reason seems to be their fear that I may break out in song should the perfect music be in the right scene in a movie. (My youngest can attest that watching the movies Fly Me to the Moon and Bee Movie with me have potentially left him scarred for life.)
Yet I wonder, am I alone?