Friday, September 23, 2011

Losing my religion

Was anyone else seriously bummed to learn that REM called it a day after 31 years of making music?

I was.

I'm neither snobby nor snotty when it comes to music. I can't name dates and obscure bands and concert scenes. I absolutely abhor sitting around people who feel they are "in the know" in the music world as they drop names and dates and act like they are somehow superior to those of us who just listen to the radio.

I have no time nor patience nor know-how to sit on iTunes or wherever it is that people buy music these days. The Mister will bring me home cd's from the library, and Hatfield puts good stuff on her iPod. I listen to the radio, mostly, or whatever they are listening to. It works for me.

All that beings said, I like music. Music, and songs, are one way I catalog life moments. I 'came of age' in the alternative/grunge scene. I can bring back intense memories and accompanying feelings whenever I hear certain songs.

It's been an entirely bittersweet week where I feel like I've been a ghost, shifting in and out of past scenes and times from my life.

REM walked away, the radio bombarded us with their stuff, and so often I felt my old high school self.

A ton of Nirvana from Cliff's computer reminded me of college days.

It's was my father's birthday yesterday-- he would have been 63. I shadowed many memories of family birthday celebrations from my childhood. I've spent a lot of time this week, listening to the Beatles and Willie Nelson, my dad's two favorites.

And to top off all the bittersweet trips down memory lane, Cliff and I spent an evening partially watching a movie, but mostly crying because our old, 3-legged beagle Ernie was sprawled out between us, exhausted and rheumy-eyed, his soul letting us know.

Ernie is slowly but surely and all too quickly calling it a day upon his own life.

It seems like just yesterday I was a young single mom with my one-year old Hattie, bringing Ernie home from the local humane society. He made us a family of 3.
Knowing that our time with Ernie--this 'era' of my life--is coming to an end, breaks my heart. Knowing that Hatfield is moving out of her childhood and into her teens, leaves me crying and wishing that I could slow it all down. Looking at the people who have already left my world makes me feel like I have shifted through several phases of life. Knowing that this all goes by all too quickly reminds me all the more that I need to slow down and live each day more in the moment than I did the day before.

1 comment:

Joy said...

So true - I feel this way often. Hoping you have many beautiful moments with Ernie in the coming weeks and months.