First of all, I'm okay.
My mammogram and ultrasound got an all-clear. I'm relieved and grateful, of course, but just because it didn't show anything doesn't mean that the issues I've been having will magically go away. It simply means I have a bit of a project on my hands to determine what's causing the discomfort. My OB/GYN is putting me off until their transition into our local medical center's system, but I may have to push it a bit. Obviously my hormones are off and I need to figure out how that plays into birth control and peri-menopause. Getting older sucks. The peace of mind is helpful, but sadly the all-clear doesn't mean everything is fine. But I appreciate that maybe my anxiety can take a little break, enough to reduce whatever "stress enhancement" my symptoms were getting before. I did feel a little better today overall, even if there was one particular spot that was more sore.
Second of all, this blog title was on purpose, an ode to a once-prolific company that plastered commercials for classic compilation albums all over our TVs in the 80s and 90s. But when I realized those three words matched the elements of what I was talking about in this one, I couldn't resist.
Anyway, I was probably overdue for this, but I got emotional twice on Monday after I got the all-clear. Once was on my way home. I heard the song "Broken Wings" by Mr. Mister, and it just took me right back to the 80s. It's such a distinctive song that I strongly associate with my childhood. It made me cry because it hearkened back to a simpler time. In this season of life where everything has felt so heavy, I'm desperately fantasizing about escaping to another time and place where I could just be free of that kind of weight for a while. Being a kid was such a pure time, and that song somehow just brought it all back.
The second time was on my way back from Wegmans in the evening. The song Cecilia came on the radio. That song is so strongly associated with a fun memory from college. My first semester, Mary and I would listen to the oldies station as we studied in the evenings, and for whatever reason we'd try to get them to play Cecilia by Simon & Garfunkel. They would never do it, until the night we had one of the two non-traditional students in our dorm, an older hippie of a guy named John Mark, call in. We think he made some thinly-veiled threat...but it worked! It was such a victorious moment. Hearing the song just made me wish I could be 18 again, sitting in that dorm room where my biggest issue was a tough paper or long exam week coming up. The mere thought of that was so glorious and freeing, and it seems so far away from where I am now. I miss it for what it was, because it was great, but I mostly just miss not having the weight of the world on my shoulders. I love my family so much, but with big love comes big worries, and I think there's such a perfect storm right now--concerns with the direction of the world, on top of whatever COVID stress did, compiled with any financial, health, or general life worries we might have at the moment. It's just feeling like SO much lately.
I've been thinking a lot lately about memories and the passage of time because my car came with a free trial of Sirius XM. Craig has had it in his van for years, but it's not often I have full control over it, so this has been a new experience. My CD project, is done, by the way. It only took about 2-1/2 weeks and that was only with periodic work on it (but including a couple marathon sessions). Pretty painless aside from my computer periodically dropping the CD burner, involving a restart or two every time. I've missed my music, and I don't love that I'm constantly flipping between channels, but Sirius has been an interesting replacement in the meantime. It's definitely got me thinking and reminiscing.
For one, the decade stations are fascinating. I love trying to guess what year something came out because so often there's something I can associate with it. If it's earlier in the 80s, it's typically something I listened to from the back seat of my parents' car. If it's the late 80s, it often reminds me of my first boyfriend or the time period where I really started listening to music on the radio, especially the Top 40 countdowns (Casey Kasem, Rick Dees, you name it). If it's the early-to-mid-90s, it's likely there's some coming-of-age or high school association in there somewhere. The late 90s was definitely college, in particular because we listened to a lot of radio early on before our Christian music collections took over. Things trail off after that, but there are still associations with my time in sports or other isolated memories or moments in time. Certain songs pull me right back. My phone music does that as well--almost every song on one of my playlists is there for a very specific reason--but it's been interesting opening up a whole new section of the ol' memory bank with the Sirius music.
It's been a vivid reminder of how rich my life has been, that so many songs have such a direct association to a lifetime of memories. It's sort of shocking how many lyrics I can remember or how many people or places hold such funny little spots in my brain. I think as we go through our 20s and even our 30s, those song associations are cool and always bring back good memories. But then you get caught up in life for a while due to parenting or work, and when you suddenly come out the other end of the fog, suddenly you're...old. Not in a bad way, I guess, but it becomes clear you've lived a lot of life compared to some people. I may not feel 15-20 years older than some of my colleagues, but I am. It's sobering. Suddenly you're looking at so much through the rear view mirror, and it's sort of shocking. I see pictures of my 20-something, young married self, and while I know I'm such a different person than I was then, a part of me can't seem to process how far removed I truly am from that. It's like me looking at photo albums of my newly married parents when I was Carter's age and thinking how much older my parents seemed. It's the same difference now for me. I swear this core phase of life has just evaporated--I went from young to "old", just like that. When you realize you're at an age where your parents were when you noticed them starting to age, it's an eye-opener. Of course, when my mom was 46, I was already off at college, and my brother was off into the world, so maybe that made 46 seem so much older. I guess I'm cool having my kids where I do--empty nest life would be interesting but I sort of like where we're at--but it's bizarre to think how much different my parents' life was at my age. I look at all my aunts and uncles and realize how my "peak" memories of childhood were from them at ages much younger than even I am now. And don't even get me started with them and my parents being the ages my grandparents were when they were legitimately old. Yes, how we age has certainly evolved so they are clearly different than my grandparents were at the same ages (I think, anyway), but funny how time and perspective can change how you see things. I'm so grateful for such a rich life experience as far as family--from the one I grew up in to the one I have now, and all the extended family time along the way. It's been special, even if I'm becoming keenly aware that it's starting its decline.
But after these weeks with the satellite radio, I really appreciate even more how our lives can have soundtracks if we let them. My phone music, my CD collection, and the Sirius songs all hold different, fun nuggets that make me grateful for the life I've lived and also a little sad so much has gone by. Later this week I'll take a break, though, and Christmas music (primarily my CDSs) will be on tap for another month. The holiday, music and beyond, holds so many memories itself. There will likely be a few more car tears, and lots more reminders of all the memories I've carried with me from 40+ years of Christmas mornings, family gatherings, school activities, church services, and lots of traditions. I'm a lucky girl, even if my anxiety likes to tell me otherwise these days.