Music Takes You Back
Today I felt the need to declutter....fall cleaning I suppose you'd call it. I found my old LP's and some of my favorite old CD's and I dusted off the player my kids gave me a few years ago and put on Barry Manilow. Barry KNEW me back in the day. He sang to my teenage heart. His love songs swept me through heartache and teen dreams and his sad songs would see a melancholy young girl with tears in her eyes, singing along, petting her poodle, Kandi, and hugging a stuffed Pooh.
The power of music is so strong now, just as it was then. "I can't smile without you..." used to mean I missed my first love, a beautiful blond haired, blue eyed Michael. Or maybe it was tough and scrappy Kenny. Or Rodney. Or Ed. I thought my heart was breaking then, but now I know, as a forty eight year old woman, that I had no idea what heartache really was. I thought I was in love over and over, but now I have my husband of twenty four years and again, I had no idea. I dreamed of the children I would have, the husband I would share my life with, the house with the picket fence, the dog in the backyard.
So I am singing away, lost in my memories, vacuuming my livingroom. My nine year old, the last of my four children, is bouncing a basketball out in the backyard (with the dogs, but no picket fence). I try to block it out. I am fifteen in my little yellow and white bedroom at 3610 Lilac Ave..... and the phone rings and it's my twenty year old telling me he's on his way home from college.... Ok. Drive safe, son. Back to Barry...... posters on the wall of Leif Garrett, Scott Baio.... wait, I have to give this book I just found to my daughter.....the 28 year old and oh, I have to text my 25 year old daughter about her doctor's visit.
So I sit down to write in my blog so I can capture the remnants of my teenage angst. I pull open my laptop and go to my blog....and there on the cover is my absolutely stunning 2 1/2 year old granddaughter.....which reminds me of my brand new second granddaughter....
Ah, so I am not fifteen, but forty eight. I am not in my yellow and white bedroom, but my comfy, warm rancher that I share with my husband, two sons and two dogs and a cat (and two fish, but who's counting). One daughter is working, one is on maternity leave. I don't have a picket fence, but I do have a loving husband. I didn't fulfill all the dreams I had as a child, but I captured so many more I didn't know about.
"Mom, are you gonna come and see my basketball moves...?" That's Dakota. He needs me. Time to turn off the music and save it for another day. It was nice to drift back in time and remember who I was, but reality calls and I am a blessed woman with a good life. And for that I am thankful.
The power of music is so strong now, just as it was then. "I can't smile without you..." used to mean I missed my first love, a beautiful blond haired, blue eyed Michael. Or maybe it was tough and scrappy Kenny. Or Rodney. Or Ed. I thought my heart was breaking then, but now I know, as a forty eight year old woman, that I had no idea what heartache really was. I thought I was in love over and over, but now I have my husband of twenty four years and again, I had no idea. I dreamed of the children I would have, the husband I would share my life with, the house with the picket fence, the dog in the backyard.
So I am singing away, lost in my memories, vacuuming my livingroom. My nine year old, the last of my four children, is bouncing a basketball out in the backyard (with the dogs, but no picket fence). I try to block it out. I am fifteen in my little yellow and white bedroom at 3610 Lilac Ave..... and the phone rings and it's my twenty year old telling me he's on his way home from college.... Ok. Drive safe, son. Back to Barry...... posters on the wall of Leif Garrett, Scott Baio.... wait, I have to give this book I just found to my daughter.....the 28 year old and oh, I have to text my 25 year old daughter about her doctor's visit.
So I sit down to write in my blog so I can capture the remnants of my teenage angst. I pull open my laptop and go to my blog....and there on the cover is my absolutely stunning 2 1/2 year old granddaughter.....which reminds me of my brand new second granddaughter....
Ah, so I am not fifteen, but forty eight. I am not in my yellow and white bedroom, but my comfy, warm rancher that I share with my husband, two sons and two dogs and a cat (and two fish, but who's counting). One daughter is working, one is on maternity leave. I don't have a picket fence, but I do have a loving husband. I didn't fulfill all the dreams I had as a child, but I captured so many more I didn't know about.
"Mom, are you gonna come and see my basketball moves...?" That's Dakota. He needs me. Time to turn off the music and save it for another day. It was nice to drift back in time and remember who I was, but reality calls and I am a blessed woman with a good life. And for that I am thankful.
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