Healing Through Music: What Worked For Me
“Melodies of Memories”
“Love Potion #9”
“Killer Queen”
“His Eye is on the Sparrow”
“Dream a Little Dream of Me”
It is not at first obvious what these songs have in common as they come from different music genres. Yet they have one fan who knew every word – my mom. She was a savant of melodies who played them in our home, our car, and as often as possible.
Her melodies were my tribute to her during her funeral. Anthems of rock, music of her childhood, glorious Mahalia Jackson, left attendees bewildered, yet smiling, and asking why I chose them. My response was to describe the beautiful, quirky, and downright unique woman that mom was. The only person aware of my playlist was my mother’s sister, Aunt Pam. We knew what filled mom’s heart with joy, what would heal our hearts with good memories. We giggled, we embraced, reflecting on times when one of us caused mom to crack up laughing to the point of crying. Only the two of us could make her laugh like that. Each song had a meaning, especially these four, a bittersweet homage.
Love Potion #9
You may be asking why we included a song about a potion to make someone fall in love with you. I cannot explain it, she sang it when happy, hummed it shopping, cleaning, working, showering…it was an “ear worm”. To this day, I sing about the cop on 34th and Vine and Madam Ruth, especially when I’m feeling down and need a pick me up. Or perhaps just a ‘potion’ of mom’s love.
Killer Queen
Perhaps a risqué choice for a funeral, yet Freddie Mercury, the lead singer, was her icon. She owned every album. While driving me to school, we would sing at the top of our lungs, swinging our hair to Bohemian Rhapsody or seat dancing to “Don’t Stop Me Now”. But “Killer Queen” was a cabaret tune that made us theatrical, not caring how we looked to other drivers. When I hear any of their masterpieces, I always imagine us in that car with big goofy smiles and our one of a kind seat dances.
His Eye is on the Sparrow
Mom told me years before her funeral that gospel choirs had the most soulful and powerful singing she ever heard. She said they made her believe in God. She wanted to hear a gospel choir in person, wanted to feel the goosebumps she had felt while listening to one in a movie, or on TV at the White House for the Obamas. I hoped her spirit was present with us, as I made sure there was gospel at her funeral from the powerful Mahalia Jackson. Every note in “His Eye is on the Sparrow” stirred a flutter in your heart and it just made sense for Mahalia to soar through the funeral home that day.
Dream a Little Dream of Me
I included this Mamas and the Papas lullaby version mom sang to me since I was a baby. As I gained an interest in the flute and started performing, she’d apologize for being off key, saying she didn’t know where my talent came from. Yet her lullabies soothed me and were my first loves of music. She still sounded lovely, even off key. Now when I hear the following lyrics, I thank her for her lovely singing and can’t help but think it’s her telling me she will always be with me:
“Sweet dreams ’til sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams, whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me.”
Maybe my playlist was over the top, inappropriate, or not solemn enough. That just wasn’t my mom.
It’s okay to dedicate your affection for someone through music they loved and shared with you. I keep my playlist on a CD in my car to listen to, and she’s right there beside me. My belief and hope is that she heard my tribute, my bittersweet homage, and sang along with every song, danced with Freddie, cracked up laughing. Perhaps I left an “ear worm” for her to know how much I cherish her.