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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.