Somewhere

My friend Tai says that the piece of music I posted today causes her to remember--or imagine--a new story from her life. This has caused me to remember some of the songs that are attached to stories in my own life.

Stevie Wonder's, You and I reminds me of being 10, first crush and feeling pretty in my green t-shirt with the owl on the front. If You Leave Me Now by Chicago brings me to 11, sitting at the back of the school bus, dreaming of the boy who sits beside a girl he likes better. Whenever I hear Bob Dylan's If You See Her Say Hello, I am 18 again, driving across country in a '63 Chevy pick-up with a man who watches Gene Autry movies with me on motel TVs and tells me I deserve more. I Can See Clearly Now by Johnny Nash played at my wedding in Central Park, and 18 years later, David and I can smile. We were so certain as we danced that night, that the only thing ahead for us was a bright, bright sunshiny day. And when I listen to the Yiddish Lullaby Tumbalaika, I remember singing it to my baby, holding her little body in my arms, rocking her to sleep in the same chair that my mother held me, rocked me, sang to me.

Last night I heard for the first time, Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, and undoubtedly it will forever be etched in my memory. A gentle and beautiful song sent by a man I've only known a short time, delivered in a moment when I sat alone in my apartment with a heavy heart. And as I listened, I imagined a new story in my life--one where my child runs free from her cares, where her troubles melt like lemon drops, high above the chimney tops, and where dreams really do come true.