March 17, 2021
A long time ago when I was the
mother of one, I had a habit late at night, when David and my son were upstairs
and in bed. I would be downstairs in the “den” and I would release all my
tension and stress with music. I would play my records very loud indeed, and I
would sing along. Maybe “sing’ is too tepid a word. Perhaps “belt” would be
better. I knew the words and the timing, and my voice was pretty good back then,
to my own ears.
My singing voice is pretty a
thing of the past, now but man, I could belt out Don’t Rain on My Parade and
give Ms. Streisand a run for her money. At least in my mind, I could. And the
most miraculous thing of all was that neither husband nor son ever woke up
during these jam sessions of mine. I didn’t preform this personal concert every
night, but when I did, when it was over, I was able to go to bed feeling much
more peaceful and could happily join the chorus of those slumbering on the second
floor.
This past coping tool, one of
several I will confess, was something I just remembered recently. The memory
was triggered when I listened to a song I hadn’t heard in a long time. Strange,
the way memory works. This wasn’t a song I would have belted out in those days,
this blast from the past that I heard recently; the song hadn’t yet been
written then.
Music on its own is a powerful
medium for memory and emotions. I’ve seen videos showing the way that some
people who have suffered brain injuries receive music therapy. I personally know
one person who suffers from Parkinson’s Disease and dementia and can’t speak
well. Yet turn on the music and he doesn’t miss a beat.
For my own part, while I
sometimes have trouble finding a word, or recalling a name, I, too, can come up
with words I haven’t sung in years when I hear a song play. I love music and
have, over my lifetime, probably had a few hundred songs that I have named as
my “favorite song of all time”.
I no longer need any of my old
coping tools as I get used to being a senior citizen. Well, beyond the most
basic for me of course, and that’s my writing. But for the most part, and all
things being equal, at this point in my life I’m able to roll with the punches
that life is famous for. For the last couple of decades, I’ve done my best to
appreciate each day, and to give thanks for every blessing. I’m keenly aware
that I’m lucky to have a level of comfort in which to live. We’re not rich by
any means, but generally speaking, we have what we need and even some of what
we want and really, that is a huge blessing. One I do not for one single minute
take for granted.
In this life we can do our
best to plan for the future. And that can be a challenge because of course,
mostly the future is an unknown quantity. As many wise folks have observed, we
really only ever have the moment in which we find ourselves. We only have now,
today, this instant. We make our plans and fill our calendars where we can with
places to go and people to see, and things to do but at any given moment, everything
can change.
And after the last year and a
bit, don’t we all know that fact really, really well?
If anyone was wondering if
there was ever going to be an end to this pandemic-living-paradigm, fear not.
Provided most of the population gets vaccinated, and folks keep up the safety
protocols until they do, we will put this behind us. We still don’t know how
long the vaccines will last. Six months? A year? Maybe more? No one can yet say.
Lately I’ve been hearing speculation that an annual booster shot might be in
the cards for at least a decade. Really, the answer to this question at the
moment is that we have to wait and see.
Once we have that information,
we’ll fashion our new normal. And if you’re having any doubts on your ability
to do just that, think on this. Everyone wants life to return to normal. Some
are getting really antsy for that to happen. But there are a lot of people who
are becoming a little nervous as the prospect of post-pandemic life approaches.
Psychologists are preparing for the next phase of anxiety they see coming. Soon,
people will be able to go out and have dinner, or go to the movies, or go bowling,
or do any number of things they used to do. And some of them are maybe even
more than nervous about this prospect, they’re scared.
Because isolation and masks
and handwashing has become normal for them already. And once more, change
is approaching.
And change means we’ll have
one more normal to get used to. Again.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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