“Music does a lot of things for a lot of people. It’s transporting, for sure. It can take you right back, years back, to the very moment certain things happened in your life. It’s uplifting, it’s encouraging, it’s strengthening.” Aretha Franklin (May she rest in peace.)

I’ve been listening to music non stop lately, mostly my own…music that I listened to before Vernon was hit, or at least before he died…I’ve also been listening to Maki’s collection of music with more appreciation as it know it will keep me ‘young.’ And I’ve been listening to suggestions from friends that coax me in and out of my musical comfort zones. The best thing is that it keeps me from paying attention to the news, which for me is emotional Kryptonite if I’m not in a healthy place. Vernon’s most effective medicine came from music…and I see that in Maki too…so why shouldn’t it be for me too? It just seems to be panning out in surprisingly different ways. I will always love the music that attaches me to Vernon…but its been connected with so much sadness and dashed hope that it doesn’t feel great to listen to those songs for long, so I just stopped listening all together. I heard some awesome brain-bending podcasts in that period though…hit me up if want some links.

Anyway, with all this music in my mind, I thought to ask Maki to find something by a singer I suddenly remembered while I was driving him to his after-school job this afternoon. Her name is Missy Andersen, and she used to play sometimes at a restaurant in town. It’s a small southern-themed place, they have great music and can draw a fun crowd…plus they give out Mardi Gras beads for free, which I would bring my small daughter as gifts/penance for having fun without her.  Vernon and I went together one night to see Missy play, probably only a couple weeks before he was hit.  I had so much fun dancing with all the others who were also having fun dancing. Darling Vernon, forever British and shy about that sort of thing, watched from the bar. I wasn’t disappointed, I accepted this about him. I was just happy to do something sort-of together. We had our own understandings.

I was starting to tell this silly memory to Maki as I drove this afternoon, but I found myself so overcome with sudden emotion that I couldn’t talk. I was grateful to already be wearing sunglasses, at least. I talk about him to the kids all the time without feeling. But today, it was his sentiment that killed me.

I remember him smiling at me when I came back to him from the dance-floor for air. For the first time in seven years of marriage he said this thing: “I want to learn to dance. I want to be able to have as much fun as it looks like you are having.”

“I don’t think you learn,” I told him. “I think you just go for it! Just move your booty and try not to care. Maybe you learn not to care.” And of course, we couldn’t have known, but he wouldn’t ever dance again…he soon wouldn’t do a lot of things ever again.  It was nice to see he wanted to, though.  This is thing thing about music and memory: they aren’t just sad and blue when wrapped in song—they can be poignant, and maybe remind you of the lessons. We only have today.

So…who wants to go dancing with me! Doesn’t this idea of fun sound FUN?

If you like Missy Anderson’s vibe, here is her southwestern schedule. She’s great. And she encourages dancing! (Here are some random videos I found:)

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