With a Little Help From my Friends

Following is an essay I wrote two semesters ago for my Eng comp class. The assignment was to write an essay for NPR's This I Believe contest.

With a Little Help From My Friends.....

.. ..

 Music has always been my best friend" comforting me when I am sad, giving me energy when I am listless and celebrating with me when I succeed. I believe in the power of music. ....

When I was a very small child, five or six years old, I used to creep out into the garage"braving the spiders"to sneak back in with my arms full of my mom’s old 78’s. I sat on the floor in front of my Rainbow Brite record player and listened to The Beatles, The Eagles, Elvis Presley, Simon and Garfunkel, and Carol King. ....

Eventually, a shiny new boom box featuring dual cassettes replaced my childhood record player. During my teen years, while my friends were at parties, I was at home with my finger perched over the record button of the tape deck. I discovered Solid Gold Radio a national program playing oldies for five hours every Saturday night. When a song came on that I thought I might like, I pushed that record button so that I could listen to it over and over again later. ....

Music filled my daily life. Way before the invention of the I-Pod, I was that kid that blasted out the rest of the world with my headphones. My Sony Walkman went absolutely everywhere with me. ....

Later on, music was the first connection between me and my husband, Bruce. He was a musician, who shared my passion for all types of music. Two years, eight months, and twenty days ago Bruce died. His death was sudden, and for me, nearly life shattering. I sank into a deep depression. I spent many days willing myself out of bed, only to end up curled into a ball on the floor until it was time to go back to bed.....

 I was sure that I would never recover. At the darkest point of my grief, when I was contemplating ending my own life, a miracle was sent to me in a song. While lying on my living room floor, I had some harsh words for both God and Bruce. I yelled to the ceiling that I would have been better off if I had walked away years before. I screamed so long, and so loud, it was a wonder my neighbors didn’t call the police. When I stopped for a few minutes, out of breath, the television suddenly turned on. I looked around; the remote was way over on the other side of the room. The TV was tuned to a satellite music channel, and the song that was playing was ZZ Top’s Thank You. The lyrics go like this, “You didn’t have to love me, but you did, but you did, but you did"and I thank you.”....

I believe that through music, my husband was able to communicate with me. I won’t pretend that my grief was miraculously lifted that day, and I was filled with peace and happiness from then on. I still struggle. But I have not even thought about ending my own life since that day. I know that Bruce is here, somewhere, and that one day, I will see him again.....

            Occasionally I walk into a department store and an obscure song that Bruce loved will start playing over the loud speaker. And sometimes, I sit on the floor and I play my 78’s on my new"and very grown up"record player and I become one of those crazy widows who talks to her dead husband as if he were sitting next to her. And he is.    

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Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

A great story and personal part of you--thank you for sharing it. First of all, let me say how sorry I am for your loss. As you said, the grief was not miraculously lifted that day, and it never does work that way. What happened, though, was that a seed was planted and healing began. I won't doubt that Bruce was responsible for that song being played, for I've heard of similar things happening. I, too, am a life-long music fan and have a large collection of vinyl that dates back to the sixties, much like your mother.