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Me, My Mum and the Music

A song can provoke such powerful emotions’ it sends you back to the time you first heard it.

I heard a song on the radio today, which sent me back to my childhood. My Mother had many Motown singles, and playing them was always a treat for me, I was able to connect with her for a few hours. I can even remember that crackling sound when the stylus touches the very first groove in the record. There is nothing better than hearing a song played on good old-fashioned vinyl.

The song puts me back to the house where I grew up; my mum sitting in the living room, listening to the songs, wistfully looking out of the window, perhaps remembering something like I do now. Each song held a certain memory or thought for my mum, some bad, some good. Every emotion drifted onto a note and filled the room with joy, sadness and lost dreams.

Looking back, I loved those moments; but its a bittersweet memory, it reminds me that perhaps things didn't go as planned for my mum. My Mum and Dad have a turbulent marriage, althought the tension has dulled over the years. There were some blissful memories of dancing with them and feeling the love they shared for each other, I used to treasure these moments; they were few and far between. I sometimes resent the arguments and fights they had, I resent how much it stills affects my life today, but to be honest I don’t think I would change my childhood, it belongs to me, it makes me…me.

I now have my own songs, which bring back memories, they disarm you, they remind you of your fragility, and they can bring such joy. My mum gave me the joy of music; she showed me the power of simple words and melody.

Comments

Leelee's picture

Thanks for sharing - it's so

Thanks for sharing - it's so true...a friend of mine is going through a divorce right now and he cannot believe how much the children are being affected or how much they are aware of things that the parents have been trying to "hide" and thought they were successful in doing - so it was interesting for you to note how some of their tensions still affect you today...

'Harlem: A Dream Deferred' - Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
Like a syrupy sweet?

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