The day the music died...

for me was a little over nine months ago.

As a woman whose life has been defined by writing, playing and listening to music for so long I found myself unable to turn the radio on or to listen to CD's. Commercial jingles could literally bring me to tears. I would have to leave the grocery store when certain songs came on. After awhile it just became less painful to not listen at all.

With my radio dial set firmly to talk radio and my computer speakers set forever on mute sadness hung heavy over my heart.

A cumulation of sadness and sorrow had erased the music in my soul somehow. Making my friend Alice's life interview and music playlists for family memories in her final days, the sorrow and sadness of watching my daughters destruction and pain, seeing how quickly life passes in the final moments of my sisters life, the realization that sometimes family members cause you pain when you need them most all combined into a paralyzing potion that made my ears unable to listen to what my heart perhaps needed to hear.

My only exception to my music hiatus has been for the girls. When they were with me I played Christmas music and their silly music CD's. Once in awhile I dragged out my dusty guitar and played or picked out a few songs on the piano.

But for the most part the music was quiet.

So many songs brought back the past...Bryan Adams blaring in my car with the sunroof open and my sister laughing in her brief flight from the reality of her diminishing life; singing loudly and badly with my daughter in the car on road trips with her face laughing and eyes bright and true; remembering first dances and first kisses set to the songs of youth with Alice in her sun-washed bedroom... it was too much...and it hurt...and my heart grieved ...

But this morning the music has truly come alive for me. Someone from my past brought me my music today ... an unlikely angel I have not seen or talked to in years ... a memory resurfacing from happier, carefree, less heart-scarred days has allowed my heart to sing again.

And somehow this combination of lyrics, melody and rhythm pulsing over and around me makes me feel able to finally rejoice in my life again.

Hope. Possibilities. Potential. Tomorrow. Joy. All things feel in the realm of my reach.

The mute button is off my computer and when I leave for errands I'm taking Steve's car cuz it has a rock'n'roll stereo in it!

And if you pull up beside me at an intersection don't laugh at this middle-aged frumpy woman blaring music like a teenage wannabe.

Just rejoice with me. The music is alive.