Revival

I believe in kingdom come where all the colors will bleed into one.
                                                     ~"I still haven't found what I'm Looking for" U2

My sister-in-law bought me Skullcandy headphones for Christmas and they are wonderful. They're so good that I've been spending time listening to all my old music again, just to hear the powerful difference they make. And trust me, they DO make a difference.

This has been a very interesting experience for me, because in a lot of cases, it is music I've really not listened to for a long time. Do I still love it? Yes, of course. The thing is, I'm almost 40 years old and that is a long time to have favorite songs. There are things I listened to obsessively for a while, but then set aside so I could obsess about new things. That didn't change my love for them. It just wasn't as immediate.

The thing is, listening to this music again is very much a revival for me. I'm not only hearing all the amazing little details due to the Skullcandy, but I'm also getting to hold myself in the moments that first lead me to these albums in the first place. I'm getting to relive all the times I drove around with my BFF, singing at the top of my lungs, quite often altering the lyrics for our amusement.

I'm also getting to remember my mom. That's more the case right now, because I've been listening to U2 music. U2 was my mother's favorite band. I still remember the day she first heard The Joshua Tree. She'd been out at the lake with some friends. One of them had just bought the cassette and Mom got to hear it while they were boating. I remember when she came to get me, she just had this amazed look on her face.  All the way home, she talked about the album, how different it was from the last ones, yet at the same time, it was what it needed to be. It was the album the band needed to make and the album she needed to hear.

When I first heard it, it was under the influence of her joy. My mother was a dark person, drunk, depressed, and often devoid of all happiness. When she found something that took her out of that dark place, she held onto it like a little kid clinging to its only toy. She knew that the happiness would be fragile and fleeting. It was something to be cherished. I think it was her only truly pure religious experience.

She was 34 at the time and had put herself and us through a lot of stuff.  I could stay so angry with her. I could be so frustrated with her frantic energy. Music though, was the one place where we really connected. For both of us, it was a place of purity, the place where we understood and appreciated each other.  It was the place where I really loved her and I would like to think she really loved me.