To me, music is a tool that puts all the pieces of my broken heart back together in times of struggle. When my grandmother was going through her passing stage, it was an earth-shattering experience for me. It helped me realize that music as healing is more than just a phenomenon. Sure, I had experienced it growing up in numerous ways- breakups, bad grades, family fights. Music got me through all of that. But it wasn’t until Nana passed away that I really got a sense for the whole idea.
My last words to my grandmother were, “I love you truly.” Although I couldn’t think much of Bing Crosby and his I Love You Truly in that moment, a smile the size of Texas filled her face and it was then that I realized
Music Heals Her.
I also remember that everyone in my grandmother’s hospital room hummed How Great Thou Art. It made me realize,
Music Heals Us.
A year later and I still grieve. I grieve for my Nana every day. I miss her every moment and I think of her whenever I hear sweet music or Frank Sinatra. I think of her whenever I look down at my Bing Crosby tattoo with my last words to her etched onto my skin and my heart is lifted. I feel complete. I feel better. And it’s in those moments that I realize,
Music Heals Me.
To me, music is more than just notes on a page. Music is healing; it’s coping, and it’s a story. Music is the connecting bridge between the ones that I love and me. To say that I believe in music as healing is an understatement. My body is composed entirely of music- heart beats and ear drums and all. I believe that I can’t live- I can’t thrive without music. Music is my center, my common ground, my healing place.