Blog No 14 - The Soundtrack of My Life

I’m going to preface this by saying that I’m not some prolific concert goer. I can literally count the number of real concerts I’ve been to on one hand. The list has some big names, but it’s a short list: Chicago/Beach Boys, Elton John, Josh Groban, Blake Shelton and Kane Brown. I don’t love the crowds, I am crabby about needing to stand (I inherited horrible feet) and I never love the music the same way I love the recordings.

However, at the end of February, I got to cross off a bucket list item. I had the honor and privilege to see Garth Brooks at one of his final dates of his residency at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas. I didn’t just see Garth and his band - I sang every song at the top of my lungs as I danced for two hours on a concrete floor in uncomfortable, but cute, blingy boots in an outfit curated specifically for a Vegas country concert.

Now, I could wax poetic about why he is one of the greatest of all time, best-selling artists - yada, yada, yada. I could tell you how he was funny, kind and humble enough to step aside and show off the talents of the family sharing the stage with him. I could share how he demonstrated the love for his wife in numerous ways for over 4,000 of us to witness.

But that’s not what this was about for me. As I attempted to hold back tears during each of the first three songs, I was filled with such gratitude for the moment we were standing in.

Those songs immediately took me back to some of my earliest memories of Jeff and I as a couple. I remembered the day I listened to my brother-in-law’s CD by Garth and fell in love with the music. I told Jeff’s brother that he would not get the CD back. (I totally stole it - something I had never before done in my life. I eventually purchased a new copy for him and gave it to him with profound thanks. LOL) I remembered a weekend getaway when we could hardly make ends meet but we were happy as clams singing all the way to our destination with the top down on my rusty convertible. I also remembered the song lyrics I had on display in my classroom as an opportunity to talk to my students about things like the color of skin and the beauty within.

By song four I was so glad I had worn waterproof mascara because the tears fell unabashedly as I sang about my faith sustaining me through life’s rougher waters with the Lord as my Shepherd.

I was even thrilled for having to surrender my phone so that I could fully concentrate on the singing, dancing, clapping and screaming that I got to do with the whole of my body.

When my husband turned to me on the way out and asked me what I thought, I had two words for him and a giant lump in my throat.

Life changing.

I still feel exactly the same and I can’t talk about it without fully choking up.

Music is like that. A few notes can transport you back in time to a memory at the edge of your consciousness. It can evoke emotion, erase fear and awaken gratitude. It can heal old wounds and crack open feelings for necessary introspection. It can cause a young woman to sob about a lost love and make a veteran with a cane stand and dance for two hours straight. It can make 4,000 strangers feel like fast friends because of the shared experience, with not a selfie to be had.

It can also make you limp for three days because of the aforementioned blingy boots, with a heart full of gratitude and a giant smile on your face.