The Soundtrack of My Life

I heard a song today that reminded me of my old roommate. Best roommate I ever had (husband not withstanding). He used to be in a garage band, and he sang that song with them and he would rehearse it around the house. It made me happy.

I have always had an emotional connection to music. Maybe it's because I'm somewhat musical myself. I have played, I have sung, I have danced, I have enjoyed. And through music, I have lived. I can remember what song was playing or popular for most of the watershed moments of my life.

I think it started with Springsteen - which makes sense because I'm from New Jersey. My older brother and sister were very into Springsteen and I soooo wanted them to like me, so I idolized him as well. I still know all the words to "Thunder Road." I recall singing that song, with my brother and sister, around the dinner table one night, as a big "FU" to our dad (to whom none of us were very close), when he complained that no one could understand the words to Bruce's songs. There you go, dad.

I remember the song that was ubiquitous on the radio when I was starting college. And fitting too - "Anything, Anything" was just about what I would have done back then. Ready for change, independence, no more uniforms. So what if we never heard from Dramarama again (though ironically, I heard that song today also).

The Grunge era defined an entire period of my life. It was emerging just as my first, brief marriage was failing. All of the angst that bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam were expressing, I was feeling, as two kids were making the decision to stop hurting each other, and grow up - even if we'd have to do it apart. I think that's why I like the Foo Fighters so much. Dave Grohl survived the Grunge era and came out a different person, and so did I. And every so often I will put on my Docs (original, thank you) and think about that music and how it got me past all the damage.

Madonna's "Ray of Light" - the album and the single - also provided a cathartic backdrop. The album came out, and was receiving rave reviews, and I considered buying it. I was reading about it on the porch of the house where my then-boyfriend summarily dumped me the very next day. But I bought it anyway. I played it all the time, with the top down on my convertible all summer, driving by the beach. It was in my car a few months later, the first weekend I spent with my new boyfriend, who turned out the be the love of my life I was waiting for (and he liked it too). We played it at our wedding.

Each of my kids has a theme song too. I had a very hard time getting pregnant with my son, my firstborn. I remember driving home from the fertility clinic, after what I thought was my third unsuccessful treatment, crying all the way. I heard Jimmy Eat World's "The Middle," and prayed the words were true. "It just takes some time, you're in the middle of the ride, and everything will be just fine." And it was. And I was pregnant a month later.

My first daughter required a few treatments too, but it didn't take as long to get pregnant with her, and her delivery was a whirlwind. I was only in the hospital one rainy day with her, and there was nothing on TV except MTV, and Natasha Beddingfield's "Unwritten" was in heavy rotation. She and I must have heard that song 15 times that day. But can you think of a better song to be born to? "Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten."

My third child was a blessing. No treatments, no planning, just Valerie choosing us to be her parents. That's how I know "Valerie Loves Me." And that's her song, the 80s classic by Material Issue. And even though it has some sad parts - it's ultimately about a faded party girl- it's also about the joy she brings to the boy who loves her, and how much she loves to dance. And that's my little girl. When we hear that song in the car, all the kids know it. They wait for the guitar riff, then scream at the top of their lungs, "Valerie Loves Me!" and we all laugh.

There have been lots of other meaningful songs too, but I think the most recent one that stands out for me is "Forever" by Chris Brown. Of course, he's not my favorite person due to recent events, but I loved this song before all that. The first time I heard it was while watching "So You Think You Can Dance," where two hip hop dancers performed it in "their style." They were in their element, they danced with abandon. I heard that song many times since, but it stood out again one night when we went out to a club with some friends to celebrate someone's birthday. I was stressed, needed a night out, but I was little tired and ready to go. My friends convinced me to stay for one more dance, and it ended up being this song, and I enjoyed dancing to it so much. I listened to the words and decided that I needed to really start seizing moments, clearly communicate things I wanted, break some rules, because sometimes you've really only got one chance. Although my friends might say I danced like an idiot, I'd like to think I danced with abandon too. It's only me, you and the dance floor.

I really want to instill this "music as memory" mentality in my kids. My life has been so much richer because of the music that has been its soundtrack. I can already tell they have songs they remember from when they were much smaller. I play music for them all the time; they like to sing and dance. Music can make moments come alive for them. I hope I can pass this on and get all new memories with them.