You’re the song I sing..

I had never heard of a “No D Day” before.

Which makes me giggle considering yesterdays post was about 24 hours without diabetes lurking…

This is a little different though. This is about sharing something with others that has absolutely nothing to do with Diabetes..shh..I’m not even supposed to be mentioning the word. I learned about it through some bloggers I follow, who got the idea from Ninjabetic. Check it out. :)

Now, onto the sharing.

I wrote an essay last year that featured some of my favorite songs and moments in my life that were tied to them.

I thought I’d share that today.

Hey, Where Did We Go?

2012: Neglecting household chores, my daughter and I swirl and twirl around singing Van Morrison’s, “Brown Eyed Girl.” The laundry is piled up in the corner and the dishes need to be washed, but in this moment nothing matters but the smile on her face.

2010: The drive from the hospital, back to the house I grew up in, takes an eternity. The silence is deafening and heavy on my heart. I rush to fill the void with something, anything. I turn the radio dial to hear Adele’s “Make You Feel My Love.” No, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do to make you feel my love. The storms are raging on the rolling sea and on the highway of regret. My siblings and I are returning to an empty home. My mother has just passed away and deep down I can feel myself breaking. There are too many things I should have said.

2007: Inexperienced and beyond frightened, I snuggle up against my newborn daughter and sing her to sleep. In an off key and pitchy voice “You Are My Sunshine” escapes my throat and some-how soothes her crankiness. You are my Addisen, my only Addisen, you make me happy, when skies are grey. I replace sunshine with her name and she loves it.

2006: Entering into any relationship can always seem intense and overwhelming, but he instantly becomes the love of my life. You look so wild, punk rock girl, let’s have a child, we’ll name her Minnie Pearl, just you and me, eat fudge banana swirl, just you and me, punk rock girl. And while we scream at the top of our lungs the lyrics to Dead Milkmen’s “Punk Rock Girl” I know that this, what we have, is going to be forever. He’s my best friend.

2005: My body shakes and I can’t seem to sit still. I wait in the midst of my peers for my name to be called, and as my name is spoken for all to hear, I rise. Anxious, I slowly walk up the stairs to my long awaited freedom. I repeat over and over in my head, “Don’t trip!” As my hand reaches for my diploma “I Hope You Dance” is being sung by the valedictorian. I hate this song!

2001: Awkward, unsure of myself, and scared of everything, I ride the bus to my first day of high school. Blaring in my ears, as I try to ignore the world, is Marcy Playground’s, “Sex And Candy.” I thought I was cooler than I actually was.

2000: Lights flicker as my paranoid and frantic mother prepares for Y2K. My father lets out a rumble of a laugh as he sings, “End Of The World” by R.E.M. It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine. He relished in any and all opportunities to poke fun at my mother and her fears. We sat there at midnight on New Year’s Eve, flashlights in hand, and as the clock chimed 12:01 a.m. my mother wiped her face and sent us to bed. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened.

1997: I begin making plans to move out, I am turning two digits, I’m practically an adult. As I make lists of things I will need for my new life as a ten year old my sister is washing dishes and listening to “Semi-Charmed Life” by Third Eye Blind. In that moment I decide that living on the beach and playing the banjo for dimes would make me feel complete.

1996: Earth, Wind, and Fire’s, “September” blares from the back of the house as I sit and watch my mother and father sway back and forth. They should be cleaning, instead, they are flinging themselves around on tip toes, dancing, and laughing. They are reminiscing on times past, their childhood, and their fleeting dreams. I think to myself, I can’t wait to have these moments.

1994: The little sister I never knew I wanted, my niece, was born. And as I run around the house singing, “A Whole New World” from Aladdin, I think to myself, I am never having kids; they just don’t seem like very much fun.

This piece was written for a contest and I came in fourth place out of 100’s of people. It wasn’t first but it was my first contest. :) Hope you enjoyed some non-diabetes stuff.


6 thoughts on “You’re the song I sing..

  1. That is so great! So many moments of my life are attached to songs. I hear that music and remember or I remember and I hear that music. So awesome! Thank you for the No D Day post!!

  2. I really like the theme of this post! It’s crazy how music helps to define and remember a moment.

    I moved from Long Island to New Jersey a few years ago. After leaving the old house for the last time, I got in my car and turned the ignition. The song that just happened to be playing on the radio at the time was Billy Joel’s “Moving Out”

    • Thanks! It’s amazing how hearing one song lyric or something that might seem so insignificant can have such an impact. There were so many more events I could have chosen from too. I liked your memory, thanks for sharing that.

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