The day the music stopped
As a kid, there were many weekends where I would awake to the sound of Pink Floyd or .38 Special echoing from our basement. My father was always working to finish out our downstairs. The sounds of drills, table-saws, hammers, music and my dad and uncles chatter. I loved this. I loved these sounds and I miss them dearly. I definitely inherited my fathers love of music, more specifically rock and roll. I was more ‘me’ with music in the background and it’s the same, even today. But the music stopped for a while.
Music, for the most part, is an annoyance to Jake. It hasn’t always been, it didn’t bother him growing up when I’d have the stereo blaring while doing chores or writing, drawing etc…But around the age of 13, the music started giving him messages. He was given instructions to take all of his books, a few at a time and deposit them into local trash cans. My son has read more books than anyone I know and had a massive collection. I had no idea this was happening until I saw it one day. He had a couple of them stashed in his jacket very inconspicuously as he was heading to the front door. I stopped him and asked where he was going, “just outside for a bit”, what’s in your jacket, I asked, “just some books I have to take”, take where? “I have to put them in the garbage can out there”… Long story short, I was to late in my discovery. All his precious books were gone, all of them. My heart broke for him that day, my boy was really suffering and it was so unfair.
So we turned the music off and it’s been off for years.
We are people too. We are parents first, obviously, but we are still “us”, our-selves. We talk about our kiddos and their unique traits. We ask questions for them and we practically live for them every day. But, are we taking time to get back to being “us”? If you’re like me, you’ve made some changes to your regular routines and perhaps you’ve even given up certain things that once brought you joy. Maybe you feel ‘bad’ for wanting those things back or guilty for feeling like you need them to survive. Maybe I’m being a little extreme but when I get in this place of loneliness, I can’t help but want my life back.
I realized recently that I have been allowing the fear of what may happen if I turned the music back on, to cripple me emotionally. I can’t parent properly if I’m caging myself from the things in life, other than my children, that bring me joy.
So I turned it back on. I’ve created a strategy. I ask Jake how he’s feeling, make sure he’s in a good place emotionally. I then say, “I’m turning the music on for a bit while I (insert anything I do around the house ie: chores).” He will either say ok, that’s fine or he will tell me he’s going for a bike ride or a walk.
Communication is everything and I guess I wasn’t applying that to my own needs. I’m a communications major for crying out loud, I preach about how we should all just talk to each other instead of making assumptions and here I am, making an ‘ass’ of myself.
Oh how I’ve missed my music, it’s good to have it back.