I came across my Pet Shop Boys Please album in my iTunes playlist today. Haven’t listened to it in quite a while, choosing meditation cds, Wayne Dyer, Dr. Fred Wolf , Margaret Laird, and Amit Goswami, instead these days. I put my headphones on and turn up the volume. Smiling, with a warm familiar sensation washing over me, I’m present to how much music triggers my memories of people, and the experiences we’ve shared. I am transported back to the moments where the memories were created.
The brain and memories, work, very different for me than looking through a photo album. I can smell the day, feel the breeze in my hair, the sun warming my face, and the adrenelin of going way to fast down the highway on a Sunday afternoon. We are driving towards Fort Worth Texas on a very hot Texas afternoon, then instantly I am dancing in a club watching Adrian leaning against the rail, Budweiser in one hand, his other hand deep in his pocket watching me dance. I can hear his sniffle as he sucks up his allergy induced nasal drip and his “Yep, Yep, maybe so, maybe so” in that comforting southern Alabama drawl. I miss him today, at this moment, like many moments before and many more to come. I revel in the memory of all the amazing times we shared together, starting as strangers in a strange state. I wonder who he would be today and what he would be doing. I miss his infectious giggle and playful willingness to try anything. His undying patience, him pulling over to allow me to take yet another photograph of something. What an amazing ability we have to be with people again at a moments notice, even when the physical presence of them has passed away. Here’s to another dance, Adrian. Time with no beginning and no end.