Music and Memories

When I hear music, I fear no danger.

I am invulnerable. I see no foe.

I am related to the earliest times,

and to the latest.

-Henry David Thoreau

Music... unlike anything else in my life, I think... rushes memories in and out of my dreamy mind. For some it's smells. For some it's tastes. For me, it's music.

You know what I mean. I know you do. Happy, candy-like tunes bring back memories of the ice cream truck and summer afternoons and dripping treats and sticky arms. "Our" song, when it unexpectedly reaches our ears, brings back lost loves, romantic moments, and forgotten evenings. Certain other songs - or decades of music - bring back the recklessness and rebellion of high school or college. Others call to mind sparkly Christmas trees and long-gone relatives and shiny presents. Music is a powerful conductor of memories. At least in my life.

Perhaps you recall a few weeks ago when I mentioned that I was looking for a piano. Desperate for one is more like it. I've missed having access to one more than I can say. Growing up, I would sit and play for hours. In college, I would sneak into private practice rooms in the music building and steal precious moments playing. I never told anyone and never got caught. (I remember sneaking into a practice room two nights before graduation, pressing my fingers to the keyboard, and finally draping myself over the keys, sobbing my eyes out. I'll bet that piano's warped now.) Yep, it's a huge deal to me to be able to sit at a piano.

So, as it goes, my friend Amber was reading my piano post and emailed me almost immediately. "You can have ours," she said. I didn't believe it. Not really. But yesterday, here it came: the piano and a smiling, bouncing, cheerful-as-always Amber. After it rolled onto the ancient wooden floors of this house and the (cute) movers left, we sat down and played a duet.

It was surreal. A piano. In Freeman House. For me to play. Whenever I want.

It's beautiful. Amber, I'm still stunned, amazed, and ... thrilled ... by your gift. I did sleep last night, but before 6 a.m. I was in there playing Clementi and Beethoven and Moon River. I'm still looking for my Norah Jones sheet music, though, so I can play The Nearness Of You... one of my most favorite songs ever. But no matter. Your piano is one of the most precious things I've ever been given. It is, after all, a gift of memories... both making them and recalling them. You've given me the gift of remembrance and happiness for many, many days to come. How will I ever, ever thank you?

Wishing you all a contended, dreamy, music-and-memory-filled weekend. -Brin