Oldies but Goodies

It's been quite a few weeks here at the Santa house.  Tensions and problems within the workings of relationships, health and family members.  Just life I guess.  Who doesn't experience times when it seems that almost everyone in your inner circle is having some kind of turmoil or angst? 

That, along with my mother's birthday coming for the second time since she died in 2009.  It doesn't seem to ever go away.  And with the goings on in our lives right now, I'm convinced that if she were still here, she could make it all better.  My mother could always make things better.  I guess that's what mom's do better than just about anything...

One look or the simple touch of her hand on mine; that's all that was needed sometimes to make all the dark and bad stuff go away; at least for a time anyway.

Mom would have been 93 in June; she had a good long run.  It doesn't make it any easier though, she was my mother pure and simple and although I know that she was ready to go when the time came, I wish I could have just one more minute with her; just one. 

Compound that with the passing of a gentleman I went to school with.  56 year's old.  Much to young to be taken from his family.  I saw him two years ago and although our meeting was brief, I am so thankful that I have that short memory of him.
 

I believe he leaves behind a daughter, grandson and countless family members and friends.

I have not been able to get him off my mind. 

Too close to home maybe.

The memorial service was sad, as they always are.  There were so many people from all different age groups and backgrounds.  You never really know what a small world it is until you see just how many lives one person has touched.  What a legacy; to have meant so much to so many in so many different ways.


It was a very odd day.  Along with the condolences and words of comfort to the family, it was also like a mini class reunion only profoundly sad with guilty smiles passing over people's faces every time someone forgot for a moment why we were there and dared to share a funny story or laugh nervously.

Phrases like "I can't believe he was so young" while in the back of our minds it was, "we are so young, how could this happen; to one of us?" 

For quite a while I just watched his mother greet people with a dignity and poise that I found strengthening. 

I hope that she found some comfort in knowing that so many people loved her son.  You shouldn't have to bury a child; it's that simple.


I don't think I will ever get used to funerals.  At least I hope I don't.... 

Anyway.

Things seem to creep up on you, and then all at once your plate is full once again and you have no recourse but to begin that slow crawl into depression and helplessness.  Extreme, maybe; but the feelings are there and they scare the hell out of me sometimes.

With all these things swirling around in my mind, I have been struggling with what to blog about for weeks.  I started at least four different blogs, a different subject each time, always starting off with a bang and then the dreaded white pages.  Nothing.  Nothing funny, sad , silly or profound.  I was completely blocked.  What an awful feeling.

Now granted, I realize I'm not writing for the masses and the world as we know it is not going to stop revolving if I don't post, but I am happy to say that people look forward to my writing, thus more stress.  But, that alone makes it worthwhile for me to push ahead and just keep trying. 

It was because of my feeling down and my husband not knowing what to do to cheer me up, he suggested that we go to our local pub to listen to a group that we like to see whenever they are in our little town. 

Oldies but goodies; you can't get any better than that.

So, off we go in 100 degree heat to have a few drinks and hopefully just decompress for an hour or two.

When we got there, I still had work, problems and thoughts of my families struggles on my mind.

I wasn't expecting a miracle, just a cold beer and some time to clear my head. 

It's funny, when you least expect something to happen that's when it does.   As the music started to play to a half full bar, I was almost immediately taken back years, to a place and time that hold cherished memories for me. 

I sat there, eyes closed while a veil slowly and very gently covered me creating a feeling of complete calm.  In that instant I was on the beach, a 13 year old with my girl friends; giggling and laughing because we knew that "the boys" would be there soon.  We would, of course, be shy and coy and silly hoping that one of them would ask us to take a walk on the jetty, play in the arcade or just sit on the beach and watch the surf.  We would talk about anything and everything from dances to clothes to parents.  We knew it all at that age and we loved life.

As Harry and Billy played DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC I wasn't in that bar anymore, I was back where it was safe and I was taken care of.  I wasn't responsible for anything or anyone but myself.  My parent's took care of all the rest.  No worries.

For me, music is so beyond therapeutic.  It's like sweet lover whose only thought is to comfort and heal. 

Growing up, music was played all the time in our house.  Classical, opera and show tunes; and Johnny Cash of course.  Memories of my parents loving and sharing their passion of music with us has had a lasting effect on me, as my out of body experience at the bar proved.

My worries, fears and anxieties just drained off me like sweat on a hot summer day.  I was liberated of any thoughts that I had had just moments before.  The longer they played, the farther away from the present I got.  It was wonderful; I didn't want to come back.

I didn't realize it when I was younger, I don't think any of us do, but now, I'd give anything to go back.  To experience my youth with the knowledge of what I know now.  Nothing would be taken for granted as we as kids tend to do.

But you can't can you?  You just have to take every day as it comes and just keep going.  You need to remember that you are loved and that you aren't alone, not really. 

I am very fortunate.  I have a family that loves me.  I have friends that most people can only hope to have.  I'm loved and I know it and I am so grateful for that. 

Still, there are times in every one's life when they feel isolated, with no one to turn too.  That's when music is my only recourse.

Dramatic?  Maybe a bit. It's just been that kind of a month I guess.  I keep going, keep surviving and keep hoping that things will get better, that the people that I love will be OK and that all will be well with the world. 

When I feel the need to escape again, I know all I have to do is listen to music and I'll be taken away, even if it's just for the duration of song. 

But that's OK too.  You have to be alive to hurt, to feel sad and to grieve. 

And for that, I am so very grateful.