the power of music: amos lee
How timely. Music has always been a strong presence in my life, getting me through some of the most challenging times. Music is the blood that flows through my veins. The past ten years have been an emotional rollercoaster of significant loss in my life, but the one thing I could always count on was music.
Whether I needed to cheer up or evoke a snot-nosed, hyperventilating ugly cry, music was my unconditional love and faithful friend. My sissies witnessed this firsthand, a moment I will never forget. After weeks of caring for our Mom who was battling cancer, the long nights and emotional rollercoaster that always comes with a cancer diagnosis finally caught up with me. After giving Mom her morphine, a sponge bath, changing her sheets, she was tucked in, peacefully asleep, my faithful friend showed up in song, and I finally broke down after going at full pace for weeks with little sleep. Music gave me the release I needed to keep going.
Lorena held me while Tanya tried sticking valium UPWARDS into my mouth and got a handful of tears, snot and saliva instead, while simultaneously on the phone with my husband, Bobby, asking what to do with me. Of course, he knew exactly what to tell them, to just hold me and hold space for me to release all that I’d been carrying. Music was the suitcase for my emotional baggage.
Anyone who knows me knows that if I'm awake, I'm listening to music and I have a playlist for every occasion, every mood, including my own memorial service. Some may think that’s strange, but that's me! I was always the queen of the perfect mix tape, then the perfect mixed CDs, now I’ve curated hundreds of perfect playlists on Spotify, and Pandora. If I had to choose between sight and hearing, I would rather go blind than to not be able to listen to music.
We were lucky enough to see Amos Lee perform his new album live in Savannah, GA. When he sang Hold On, he invited the audience to meditate on the lyrics, knowing that we all collectively shared in a common thread of loss, grief, and guilt, which was so impactful for those of us who have lost loved ones and felt like we weren't there enough in the end, or worse yet, during Covid, lost loved ones who we couldn't be with as they transitioned. I closed my eyes and let the tears stream, smiling, and I could feel all my in spirit loved ones. I pray everyone can experience what we did at that concert and have the same knowing that it's all ok and that we are ALL held in divine love. Our pain is collective but is no match for the collective power of LOVE.
The song on this album, "Hang On," feels like it was written for my sisters and me. The lyrics perfectly describe the months, weeks, hours and minutes we were all together at our family home as my parents transitioned to the blissful freedom from their ailing vessels.
Hang On reminds me of how Mom “held on” until 5:19 am, a clear sign that our Daddy came to get his girl, as he also transitioned on 5.19.
We never left you.
We never left you that day, even though we felt far away.
Couldn’t hold you, but you didn’t want to be held anyway.
Hang on, hang on...when morning comes you won’t be here alone.
Press play below to listen to Hang On by Amos Lee
"Looking for the Light" reminds me of the all-knowing, beautiful moment before my Daddy took his final breath when he whispered my name to let me know he was ready to move on, allowing time for me to call my Mom and sisters to his bedside. Then his eyes popped open so big with the most beautifully dilated eyes, the most surprised look on his face. I knew the awe-inspiring light he must have seen.
Press play below to listen to “Looking for the Light” by Amos Lee
"I Get Weak" makes me think of how my beautiful Mommi must have felt for the years after she lost her soulmate to the same disease that would eventually reunite them.
Press play below to listen to I Get Weak by Amos Lee
“I Get Weak” makes me think of our son, Geoffrey, who lost his 10 year battle with addiction on New Years morning, 2019. “
“The first bite of the apple tasted so sweet, but now, I get weak…”
Press play below to listen to “I Get Weak” by Amos Lee
"Crooked" makes me think of the many headspaces I've found myself in over the past several years. A state of denial, acceptance, despair, joy, neurosis, grief, loopy tear-filled, drunken laughter or bawling crying and sometimes both, salting the wounds with poison or healing them with the salt of the ocean.
Press play below to listen to Crooked by Amos Lee
I'm sharing this because I know we all suffer loss in some way, and music, like art, is interpretative, healing and can sometimes make sense of the minutia in our heads perfectly articulating what we cannot in our state of grief. Sending love to all of the grieving souls out there. May music be your medicine.
This album just pours from your heart & soul Amos Lee & I’m so honored & thankful we got to bare witness to your gifts.
