The Day The Music Died— ‘That cold February day in 2022 my heart broke — the music died’
I’ve started listening to music again. I stopped after my daughter Orli died because beauty and emotions in music evoked pain already so close to the surface. I used to listen to music all the time. I liked to hear it loud, feel the vibrations go through me, and be encompassed by the sound. When my daughters were born I listened less, maybe just in the car or at concerts because I needed to hear what was going on in the house and quickly intervene in whatever shenanigans they were getting up to.
The intro lyrics from Don McLean’s popular American Pie song in 1971 were eerily prescient.
A long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music
Used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could makek those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for awhile
But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
Something touched me deep inside
The day the music died
That cold February day in 2022 my heart broke — the music died. After a great loss, some people close themselves off from the rest of the world. This was my coping mechanism to allow space for healing. The danger is when the closing off is permanent and becomes a form of isolation. We need connections to survive. We are wired for human connections and closing ourselves off can damage our physical, cognitive, and emotional health.
Everyone has a song or songs that bring back emotional memories from the past. Often they are joyful memories, but when grieving, those memories can be triggering and sting with the pain of what was and can never be again. It is ok to take a break for a while, it is ok to seek silence. Sometimes the world and reality are so loud that any additional “noise” is overwhelming. While in the depths of grief, some people need quiet and some people need music. For some, the silence is oppressive and unbearable. There has been lots of research about the role of music and grief and the positive benefits of music not just for grief but for other forms of emotional despair.
Music was a big part of our lives when our daughters were growing up. The genre changed to accommodate their tastes. My husband would hold them when they were infants in the late hours of the night pacing for hours listening to the Beatles while trying to get them back to sleep. We went to the Wiggles concerts and sang along to compilations at breakfast every morning. Long car rides were made more bearable. We went to musicals and the girls would memorize the lyrics to every song and never seemed to tire of them. We would go to outdoor concerts and have lavish picnics. Every July we’d go to Ravinia (an outdoor concert venue in Highland Park, IL) and listen to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. When the girls were young they were thrilled when the cannons would go off! My husband deserved “Father of the Year” for taking Orli and a friend to a mall to stand in line for hours to get an autograph and a picture with Ariana Grande.
Music symbolizes happiness and respite from worry and work. It is difficult and often triggering to listen to joyful sounds when in pain. As I’m transitioning from deep grief to a more general chronic condition of grief, I’m starting to see that music can also be used as a healing tool. It can make it easier to access feelings that were not easy to access before. The feelings were tamped down and sublimated because recognizing and accepting them made everything too real. Music helps to confront the pain and by doing so it helps us to process and adapt to the loss. Music forces you to be present in the “here and now”.
I’ve been avoiding music because it was too painful. I’m starting to listen again because while still painful, it somehow makes me feel more connected, less vague, and more in touch with what I’m feeling. I also feel closer to Orli. When I listen to music I feel a more spiritual connection to her. My relationship with music has changed. Then again, my relationship with many things has changed. I will listen to music when I’m feeling strong and when I’m feeling weak. It will take time for me, though, to be able to sing again.
Edit: I published this in May 2024 — I hope you will find it inspirational. How Learning To Play Guitar Is Helping Me Heal
