I make my children listen to a combination of eclectic and outright dodgy music. Last night we finished the day with a Gregorian chant and this morning we started with a very country twang. I feel it’s an easy way to educate them about different styles of music and it is one of the few things that they don’t complain about. Therefore, the sometimes-dubious music choices remain.
When I feel things are going a bit helter skelter I bring out the spiritual soothing stuff with water and birds entwined. It doesn’t calm any one and it caused a slight commotion today when my four year old told my two year old that the birds on the CD were dead but again it makes me feel like I am at least trying to have some positive influence over their day.
As my four year old was listening to the track with “the waves” he asked me what Grandma was saying in the waves. I didn’t understand the question so I asked him if he meant what are the words to the music and explained there were no words but we could make some up about his Grandma if he wanted.
“No” he replied, “I can hear her in the waves”
His Grandma, my mother, died when he was twenty months old and I was five weeks pregnant with our second child. As I swell with our third due in three weeks I ache for her and mourn that she could not know our incredible human beings who defy description. In the moment that he heard his Grandma in “the waves”, my son brought her back into the room, back into our lives and for a fleeting moment she was there with us. It felt so damn good.
I hope I hear her in the waves.