I will soon be 69 years old. This is a respectable number of years… a lot of water under the bridge, so to speak. I’ve done a lot of things and have bushels of memories to show for it. If only I could use my invention of a neural recorder instead of doing this bulky typing thing.
As I continue living on, I find things in my early life getting harder and harder to recall, but sometimes I am given a gift… a word, a smell, a sound will spark a memory from long ago. I should write these memories down as soon as possible when they come, but sometimes I don’t do it right away and the memory soon becomes as smoke. I hope that those memories are not lost but will present themselves again to me to record.
Today I was on Spotify, listening to my new play list, which is called “(A Few of) Don’s Classic Classicals”. It’s a collection of classical music that I’ve listened to and loved throughout my days. Right now, the list is at 32 works of art…. About 2 ½ hours of ear candy. I believe most people would recognize, if not love most of them. Anyway, the last song on the list is (perhaps appropriately) Brahms’ Lullaby, simply and masterfully played on a piano, as it was written (I think).
As the lovely strain got underway, I felt that an old but familiar friend was here with me. My mind was transported to a time when, as a child, I listened to this very tune while going to sleep. I was at my sister Wilma’s house, staying overnight, for what reason I don’t recall. As I listened (as a child) the song moved my young self immensely. I lay there listening to the lullaby and my emotions were being played by the music, much as the music was being played by the pianist. My eyes welled with tears, and I quickly went from drifting off to nightly slumber to sobbing in my temporary bed. Pretty soon my sister came in and comforted me, I recall.
As the 69-year-old me sat here thinking about this moving emotional experience, the phenomenon began all over again. My eyes welled with tears, and I had to fight to keep from sobbing like a 4-year-old.
Emotions are powerful things, especially when enhanced by artistic beauty, especially (for me at least) beautiful music. I’ll always be grateful for this wonderful blessing, as I am grateful for whatever brought this memory back to me. A word of counsel from this 69-year-old music lover: Embrace memories when they come. They are treasures from heaven. Write them down to be easily recalled.
Don
