Music, memories remain intertwined

“Music is God’s gift to man, the only art of Heaven given to earth, the only art of earth we take to Heaven.” 

— Walter Savage Landor 

Long ago, I recall reading a quote that insists that all writers have a great longing to be musicians, creatively destined to put their words to music. 

There is no doubt that words remain on the page, but music holds the magical, immeasurable gift to leap all boundaries, touch generations and live on forever. 

“Music happens to be an art form that transcends language,” Herbie Hancock once said. 

Think of the great, sweeping Italian operatic scores. I cannot translate a single word, but the depth of emotion within the music holds such emotion it can move one to tears. Gospel music, old and solid and steadfast, holds such power. 

I was only 10 years old when my dear aunt passed away at 36, but I have memories of her piano pieces. Just the first few notes of “In The Garden” transports me beside her on the piano bench, in the church where she allowed me to join her for midweek practice. 

The empty pews, the vibrant stained glass windows, the scent of my aunt’s perfumed powder all comes back to me in the chords of her favorite song. 

The opposite emotion can be evoked by the lighthearted, silly country music of Roger Miller, Johnny Cash, and Buck Owens. “Do Wacka do” and “A Boy Named Sue” and “I’ve got a Tiger By The Tail” are just a few that made us laugh the whole way through.

I felt so big even though I required a step stool, reaching for albums from a spinning floor-to-ceiling rack near the stereo. Carefully pulling a black album out of its colorful sleeve, placing it on the turntable at Dad’s request, and setting the needle down carefully to the favorite hit felt like a job no one else could do nearly as well. 

It was pure joy watching Dad chuckle at the lyrics. Those old songs could lighten the spirit at the end of a day filled with hard work. Patsy Cline was a clear favorite, and her voice still connects me to my dear dad all these years down the road. 

Each time I hear one of her songs, it’s as if no time has passed, and I am happily tucked in beside my Dad on his gold easy chair, feeling the power of Patsy’s sweeping vocals.

Music is a gift like no other, evoking a lifetime of emotion in just a few minutes of any given song.