Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Music that hurts too much

After addressing movies, Peacebang is now tackling music ... specifically, music that renders you wet and soggy, unable to hold the tears back.

Mine are -- mostly -- situation based. But man, they kill me. I can't hear them without tearing up.

Bridge Over Troubled Water. The Sunday after the levees broke in New Orleans, I was scheduled to preach at a church in another town. A town that was taking in Rita-evacuees. A couple of months before that, I had requested that the very talented musicians sing this song.

Oh, Lordy. It was too perfect, too raw, too right. I was completely a mess. Everyone else was, too, though. And a little old lady handed me a wad of toilet paper and whispered that my bra strap was showing. I will always love her.

Sunrise, Sunset. I remember when I was a teen, my mother coming home from a wedding and angrily complaining that it should be against the law for anyone to have that song in a wedding, because it makes all the parents cry. I'm a parent now, and I'm all for that law.

My Beloved Wife, by Natalie Merchant. I can't even read the lyrics without tearing up. My parents have been married 56 years. 'Nuff said.

I'm sorry, why I am thinking about songs that make me cry???

Okay, well, before I stop this insanity, I have to add one last song. The song that instantly was in my head when I read PB's challenge.

Canon, Pachebel. We had a 40 minute CD of Canon, one that I had used when I was pregnant with my first, practicing all those breathing exercises. I copied it to my iPod before Little Warrior's surgery when she was 9 months old ... the surgery that would remove a grapefruit-sized tumor from her right kidney and an orange-sized tumor from her left kidney.

She was in ICU for what felt like a million days, but as I recall, was about 3 or 4. It was so loud and busy in there. Not restful. She looked so pitiful, with about a thousand tubes coming out of her. I had some little speakers that I plugged my iPod into, and we put Canon on a continuous loop. 24 hours a day, for however many days we were there. Mmm ... mmm, mmm, mmmmmm .... Pachebel's Canon. Over and over. She seemed to sleep better.

It's a beautiful piece of music. But two notes in, and I cry. PPTSD. Pachebel's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"I Hope You Dance" by LeeAnn Womack - who doesn't hope all of this for those they love?