It ain't Musak baby!

I have a friend who recently wrote in her blog about her life's sountrack and it got me thinking and I've kind of been stuck on it for a few days. Thank Carrie!

I look at my life and I can look back into the past and hear all of the songs. Not all of them are pretty and not all of them are real music. There was Petra and David Meece, Keith Green and Psalty. Then there were the sounds of mangos plopping onto the patio in our backyard, Micah barking and the gate latching closed. I hear the ice cream truck and the school bus, the lid to the record player and the click of the cassette deck. As I got older there was the sound of the tennis ball smacking up against the outside of the house, country music and Garth Brooks... and my mom making fun of me and coming into my room singing "yeeeee hawwww". There was the sounds of dishes being washed, my dad watching TV and David playing the piano.

I think of sounds and songs more than I think of the past itself. The sounds connect me to that place, that moment in time. I hear ocean waves and I am sitting on the beach after crossing the bridge, feeling peace and serenity as whatever that day's challenges were wash away with the crashing waves and the rolling tide. When people ask me if I remember this and such I usually would say no, but if you asked me if I remember the sound of the oven opening as my dad pulled out the Thanksgiving turkey, well, then I can see the table all set with the "fancy dishes" and my grandma sitting there waiting for dinner.

When I play the music of my older years, mostly I hear Mike screaming, the pounding of drums. I hear angry music and the clinking of beer bottles. To this day when I hear someone pop the top to a soda, I am transported back to that moment, and I can see the anger that alcohol brought. I hear the sounds of my body being damaged and the words that crushed my soul.

Then the soundtrack starts over. And I hear lullabies. I hear the first giggles of my baby. The cough that the endless runny nose brought on. I hear "Mommy, watch me!!", "No mommy, like this!", "Mommy, can you help me build?". And I know that this soundtrack, this moment of life is the one that tunes out all of those other moments. Sometimes there is crying and screaming and doors slamming, but 20 years down the road when my child is moving on with his life, those sounds will be what I hear.

I wonder what the years will bring. Will I hear marching bands or referees blowing whistles? Will my child be a superstar or a supernerd? All I know is the music makes the memories for me. And I can't wait to hear the next part of the symphony!