Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Healing Power of Music

Recently my mother passed away unexpectedly. As you might imagine, in the time since life has become increasingly difficult. I happen to be blessed in the area of friends & family as well as in the secular world so the usual "I'm here for you" or "Let me know if there's anything I can do" meant a lot more coming from those angles for me then some others and for that I am truly thankful.

One thing that made me feel (and always does at times like these) bad for others is when friends & family are forced to say something along of the lines of "I wish there was something I could say to help". Many people are at a loss during a situation like this and it's completely understandable. I mean... what DO you say? What IS there to say? Unfortunately nothing outside of the comforting phrases listed above. This is where The Healing Power of Music has been a savior to me in the past few weeks. How has music healed me? In so many ways!

First and immediate, music helped me relieve me of some deep sadness that just had to get out. A car ride to meet with my siblings turned to complete crying out of my eyes while listening to Elvis Presley's recordings of "The Wonder of You" and "My Way". At first, I chose the music because the first track says everything I always wanted and (and got to thankfully) say to her about who she was and what she meant to who I am. The second because she was the embodiment of the sentiment behind Paul Anka's writing in "My Way". But before the first verse had been sang, I was already tore up. It's hard to describe, but it was much needed therapy. The day and a half before it was spent mostly in shock, comforting others or relaying the events to others who weren't aware yet and then dealing with their shock & pain.

The emotion conjured up both by what the songs meant to me coupled with the heartfelt renditions themselves, just sort of pushed me over an edge that I needed. I was able to get out a lot of grief that I honestly don't believe I would've otherwise. I was later able to use both of those songs when I put together an online video tribute of sorts and others were able to gain joy out of it which is amazing to me and something I'm eternally grateful for.

In the following days my sister (whom I owe getting me started on music to) would post songs on her Facebook page that reminded her of our mother. I was amazing what some of those songs did to help the healing process. We were able to share memories of our mom from different perspectives and different eras based on memories linked to a particular song. How cool is that? That was music having the ability to say something to us no one or thing else could.

Long car rides with only the following 8-Track Tapes to accompany us: Simon & Garfunkels Greatest Hits, The Best of John Denver, Kenny Rogers: 20 Greatest Hits, Elvis As Recorded At Madison Square Garden and The Best of Charlie Pride. Then there were names of artists tossed around that both of us hadn't heard in years but were locked in our memories due to the influence of the original music lover; our mom. Ever heard of Roger Whittaker? How about Floyd Kramer? Ever heard the one and only hit by Terry Gibb? Maybe not, but our mom LOVED one or more songs by these artists and her passion for them has a place in each of our minds.

I was astounded how good I felt when I listened back to some of those tracks I haven't heard in maybe 25-30 years. Did it bring her back? Of course not. Did it make me miss her? At times. But more importantly, each song unlocked a different warm, incredible memory linked to my child hood. This to me is worth more than all the gold in this world. My sister and I were able to share memories, have some giant laughs and learn things from each other while talking about each of these songs. What else could've brought that to us other than music?

As I said, there is no magic here. It was through any of this music that all of us became instantly healed by any means. But I see something deeper there, I see where music moved me to a state I needed to be in. It helped me work through some emotions that otherwise may have stayed locked up for who knows how long. More importantly, it helped myself and others I know remember and share a ton of locked up memories. I know it's cliche to say it, but our mother really would've wanted that. She would've wanted us to talk about watching The Barbra Mandrell Show, Solid Gold or Dance Fever (remember any of those??) together. She would've wanted us to laugh about the bad things we all had planned for that Best of John Denver 8-Track Tape. She would've liked that I've passed her message on that recently she gave Michael Buble one listen and decided "he sounds pretty full of himself" and so many other thoughts she had an artists or songs.

All of these things help in the healing process. Some days will be harder than others and music will be there to help in either case. I can see some of the same music listed above really making us miss her some days more than others. But I can also see those same songs bringing joy through stories told and re-told through the coming years without her. It's music saying that thing that no one else can think to say but would love to. It's a feeling or emotion that can only be unlocked by a certain sound, voice or melody that it's linked with in our heads.

It's a constant reminder to us of her and who she was to us. It's the healing power of music and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Marjorie Louise Robinson
October 12, 1934-November 27, 2010

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