When Tony was home over Christmas break, he shared a playlist with me of obscure songs he found himself drawn to inexplicably. It just so happened that most of them were songs he had heard from the womb, or riding around in his car seat. He had no clue why he loved them some much, just that he did.
I remember as a little girl watching musicals with my mom and later playing make believe that there were songs playing in the back ground of the action of my everyday life. Some of my earliest memories were my momma cleaning house with the Imperials, or riding in my daddy's truck with Eddie Rabbit, or my grandpa's console stereo pumping out Hank Williams Sr. I remember the solemnity of my parents when the news came on the tv that John Lennon had been shot. My daddy was in a band and the drums still touch the very heart of me. Lionel Ritchie, Dan Fogelberg, Ron Kenoli, all run together and play out the music I hear in my remembrances of times past. Its amazing how music takes you back and defines a moment.
One of my memories of my parents together was their joined love for the music of Bob Dylan and I especially remember them sharing with me a particular song called, Man Named the Animals. It was a cool song and I hadn't heard it for years. But going along with my new mania with children's books, I was in the library this weekend and came across a brand new book that goes along with the song. It has beautiful illustrations to accompany the lyrics and Bob Dylan actually sings the song on the cd that comes with the book. I popped it in the cd player on the way to church this morning and was time warped back to my daddy's music room and the old record player. My parents were there sharing the music with me and yet here I was all grown up sharing it with my own babies.
I am so glad my parents shared their music with me. Thanks mom and dad for pushing play and allowing me to dance.