When I was 16, I was in love for the first time. He gave me his class ring, we would make out passionately on a rock at the pier of Northport, and during lunch, we would hold hands in the senior courtyard as we listened to some long-haired guy play the guitar and talk about the pain of having rich parents and a Volvo.
And one day, he put “Under the Bridge” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers on his car tape deck and we drove with the windows down listening to music on a beautiful spring day.
Every time I hear that song I think of him.
And even though he dumped me the next year when he went to college for some co-ed that made him soup when he was sick, I still hear that song and smile. The freedom and innocence of that time in my life. Of a time when my only care was getting home before curfew.
There’s many songs that do that for me. That bring me back to a place of emotion – both good and bad. The sadness when I hear the wedding song from my first marriage. Or the happiness I experience when I hear “I’m Free” by Soup Dragons – the song my best friend and I would dance on couches to in college. (And maybe even when we turned 30. And then 40.)
And of course, there’s the nine songs that my husband put on the one and only mix CD he made me early on in dating. I still love that mix and can’t wipe the smile off my face or happiness I feel when I hear them. Even the annoying country ones. Okay, maybe not the annoying country ones, that’s a lie.
So this morning, when my daughter was feeling cranky when she woke up – a usual occurrence in our house – I started singing, “Ooohhh child, things are gonna get easier.” She stopped and said, “That’s a pretty song, sing it again.” And so I held her on the couch, a girl almost 7 years old and spilling out of my arms, and sang, “Oooohhh child, things are gonna get easier.” And she laid there, a huge smile on her face as my arms ached from her weight.
Now when I hear that song, I will think of her. Her cranky but still beautiful face lying in my arms. And I will also remember that right after I finished singing it, she got up, dressed and brushed her teeth without me ever having to nag her.
The power of a song.
