"Do You Feel Like We Do?"

On my way to work today “Do You Feel Like We Do?” came on the radio. Every time I hear that song, I’m transported back to my childhood. Well, in all honesty, there are a lot of songs that do that. In most cases, kids listen to the kind of music their parents were listening to as they were growing. Because of the area that we live in, more often than not, it’s country. And, that’s cool. But, for me, it was rock music. When I was growing up, I heard a lot of it. At a very high decibel. My dad had a room dedicated in my parents’ basement for his stereo equipment, the “Stereo Room”. A Marantz receiver was the control deck to the turntable, reel-to-reel, tape player, two 4-foot tall tower speakers (I don’t remember the wattage, but it was a huge number for the time), and two smaller speakers perched on the taller ones. I’m not joking when I say that you could feel the bass on the second floor. You could probably hear it from down the road, but I never tested the theory. It’s a wonder none of us kids are hearing impaired. Even with as much patience as my dad does not have, he was always willing to share music with us. As long as we didn’t “fart around down there”, he would spend hours spinning records and loading the reel-to-reel. I remember distinctly a couple of times when I was pretty young, I would be listening to some 80’s schlock on Y-94, and he would say, “Turn that shit off. I’ll go play you some good music.” And, he didn’t disappoint. My dad had a chair directly in front of the turntable, with his albums lined up underneath. And, he had some great ones. In this room, I first heard The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Doors, The Who, Pink Floyd, all the great classic rock. Of course, it was just plain old rock ‘n roll in those days. I loved those albums. I could look at them for hours. Way back in the stone age of the 60’s and 70’s, album covers were as much an art piece as the music they contained inside. My favorites were the Stones’ albums. Some Girls, with the cut-out faces, and Sticky Fingers, with the real zipper on the jeans, (my sister and I would giggle about the guy in his underwear on the inside). They’re collector’s items today. We should have treated them better. And he had the requisites for any music fan: Woodstock, the album, Frampton Comes Alive, the Beatles (White Album), and so many others. The smell of the vinyl as you removed the album from its sleeve, the static as the needle hits the groove, the crackle of the scratches from too many album plays, all memories that I treasure. Then, the SOUND as the first song would begin to play. Dad would crank the volume, and you were instantly surrounded by the music. Pure heaven. To this day, I like to play music as loud as I heard it when I was growing up. My husband and kids are less appreciative than I was, so I usually only play it that loud when I’m in my car, alone ( props to the Bose in my car. It takes the abuse I shell out to it every day like a champ). But, I might be doing something right too. My daughter’s favorite song is “Heartbreaker”, from Led Zeppelin. And, I love that. The tradition must carry on. Sadly, the stereo room no longer serves the purpose of wrecking ear drums anymore. It’s a storage space, now. The turntable and reel-to-reel haven’t had any tunes played on them in years. I’m not even sure where my dad’s albums are. But, I do have the memories. And, those I’ll keep with me forever. Over the years my dad has given me a lot of things, but one of his greatest gifts is a love of music. And, in the grand scheme of things, it’s the one I treasure the most. Thank you, Dad. Rock on.

One Fish, Two Fish

Pretty much every evening before my daughter goes to bed, she has me read a few books to her. I let her pick which ones, but there is always one I hope she'll select:



Reading this aloud to her puts a smile on my face every time. A few times I will stumble over the rhyming, but I just love reading it because it's so much fun.

One of my favorite lines:

Today is gone. Today was fun.
Tomorrow is another one.
Every day, from here to there.
funny things are everywhere.

I love Dr. Seuss!

Wish You Were Here

I know I haven't written in a while. It seems to me that I generally feel inspired when I'm angry or sad about something. Which is kind of sad in itself. So, although I would give just about anything in the world to not be writing right now, I feel I must. This is an outlet for my thoughts and feelings, so here goes.

I recently lost a cousin. We just got back from his funeral in Laramie, Wyoming. Now, as you all know, I'm not a huge fan of death. Ha! That's the understatement of the year. But, his death was by his own hand, so I'm really having a tough time dealing with it. I know he'd been depressed for quite some time, but I never truly believed it would ever come to this. Jim always had a smile on his face, always acted like he was having the time of his life, and always treated everyone as his friend. To know that he was battling demons inside himself that whole time makes me incredibly sad. It's heartbreaking.

Losing a family member or friend is always a difficult thing to deal with. Immeasurably so. But, when it's so unexpected, you have no time to prepare for the aftermath. The grief and anger can be palpable. You don't have an answer to the riddle, and you can go mad trying to figure it out. What could have been said or done? In the end, probably nothing. And, that's what hurts the worst, I think. Knowing that somebody felt so badly and then felt this was the only way to ease the pain makes it almost unbearable. Knowing that somebody I love felt this way and there was nothing to help them breaks my heart. I hate knowing that somebody I love is in pain, so knowing that Jim was in so much pain that he felt the need to leave this world tears me apart.

I feel that a family is a giant jigsaw puzzle. All the pieces come together to make a beautiful picture. You can always add more family members to the puzzle, they just create a larger landscape. But, if you lose a family member, you lose a piece of the puzzle. And, the picture will never be whole again. You can see the picture without that piece, but your eyes are always drawn to the empty space. Losing Jim is that way to me. He was a piece of my family's puzzle, but his loss has left an empty space that can never be filled again. I so want that piece of the puzzle back. My family doesn't feel whole anymore. And although I hadn't seen him much in my lifetime because he lived so far away, knowing that I'll never see him again makes my heart ache.

Jim was one-of-a-kind. He viewed the world a little differently than everyone else, but that's what made him a beautiful human being. He could make you laugh with his stories or comments, or sometimes just a look he'd have on his face. I wish he hadn't felt the need to leave us so soon, but I know he's truly at peace now. And, looking down on us with a smile on his face. Just like he did in life.

I miss you Jim, and I'll love you forever. Like my brother said, I'll see you on the other side. Can't wait to hear the stories you have to tell. I'm sure they'll be some good ones.