Music

Music stirs so many memories and feelings that I've been forced to listen to the news while driving. I'm up on current events more than ever before. Jimmy used to have a perfect comeback if someone brought up a news story that he had no clue about. He'd say,

"I haven't been following that story."

It implies that he's aware of EVERY OTHER story, just not that one. It's very effective, unless it's something big, like "Anna Nicole Smith died? I haven't been following that story." For ones that grab the headlines for weeks, you have to make up your own story, like,

"I just woke up from a coma."

Lately, though, the news is even more depressing to me than hearing "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion. I can hear "My Girl" a song Jimmy sang to me at my 40th birthday party or "Hero" the ballad I put on the "This is Your Life" video I made for him when he was 45. They make me sorta smile.

There's a wistfulness surrounding me when I hear our song, "Our Day Will Come." We dated since 1968 and I remember so well waiting and waiting for 1972, the year we'd finally be married. Finally...we were 22.

I shake my head in amazement that our day came and our day went and now it's over. The story of us has ended. Jimmy's cousin Lew and Carole Yevoli made a Cd for me soon after Jimmy died with varying renditions of "Our Day Will Come." Last week I was able to listen to part of it.

Music makes him alive to me now and while there's a yearning, I don't move away from it or change the radio station so quickly like I did even a month ago. I feel us together dancing or what our interpretation of dancing was. After all, a white middle aged couple trying to look cool doing the the ancient cha-cha can be a hazard. Caterers should be instructed to put orange cones around the dance floor.

And, I can never again think of dancing without hearing what Jimmy said to me just weeks before he died.

"I wish we had danced more."