Play It Again Sam (Post #21)

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“Play it Again, Sam”   (Post #21) Lessons Learned by a Dating Widower

Do any of you who are reading this blog have this problem too?

I mean, music speaks to my soul.  It really connects me.  It can make me beat a phantom set of drums, or it can reduce me to tears.  It can make me drive faster, or it can make me want to worship my creator.  The right song can trigger once-forgotten memories that are decades old.  And at other times, it can put me “in the mood”.

There’s this ‘Time Life’ album that ‘Ruby’ and I both enjoyed listening too.  It was loaded with songs that seemed to kindle our passion for each other.  And since she’s passed away, it’s really tough for me to listen to this album.   Since I’ve been dating, there are other albums that trigger intense memories – memories that make me miss those moments when I was dating certain girls.  It was music that I frequently played when I was dating them; but now that they are gone out of my life, once again, it’s tough for me to listen to that music.

Wow.  Music can be like looking through a photo album.

I remember my freshman year in college, my roommate and I would play LP albums of the Mystic Moods Orchestra; usually the ‘Stormy Weekend’ album.  We did it whenever we were lonely and missing our girlfriends (his in Kansas, and mine in Pennsylvania).  It didn’t make us feel any better, in fact it made us feel even more miserable.  But man, did that feel good.  We didn’t want to feel happy.  We were heartsick for our girl.

Isn’t it amazing just how comfortable we divorcees or widowers can get feeling ‘blue’.  Isn’t it crazy how when we’re feeling low, sometimes we really DON’T want to feel better.  I hurt, and doggone it, I deserve to hurt!  And I’ve done it so long I’m pretty good at it – and I’m pretty comfortable managing the melancholy madness.  It’s almost addicting.

It can happen when I listen to Ray LaMontagne , Michael Buble , Neil Young , or to Adele.  You probably have other artists that do it to you.

And there’s just some songs that I can’t listen to.   Not yet, anyway.  Too painful.

Listening to them evokes unwanted tears; unwanted longing for a relationship that I can’t have; shouldn’t have;  . . . but wish I could have.

Music moves me.  Really moves me.  Dangerously moves me!

There was one evening that I listened to one artist so long, that I longed SO much for a certain girl that I actually pulled my car over to the side of the road and I texted her.  She sure was surprised . . . since I hadn’t communicated with her in months.  She texted back “Are you all right?” like I must have lost my mind.

And that’s exactly what happened.  Music will do that to me.  It’ll make me lose my mind.  Like alcohol, it’ll make me do things that I’ll regret in the morning.

LESSON LEARNED:  Just like putting down a dessert fork when you’ve eaten too much; just like pulling your foot back off the accelerator pedal when you realize you’re speeding; just like forcing yourself to turn off the light and actually go to sleep when you’ve stayed up too late;  . . .  just like all of those examples, I’ve got to exercise self discipline when it comes to music.  I’ve got to change the playlist.  (I actually have one called ‘blue’!)  Music can serve to be my opiate, preventing me from doing anything productive.  OR, it can serve to be my savior, resurrecting my spirit and motivation.

I’ve been reminded that Satan can use music to keep us away from the joy that only our God can provide. 

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