Building memories, one song and one fire at a time

It might have been the melancholic tone of a snowy day by the fireplace with my three kids, quite a rarity these days that the older ones have tons of commitments, but while I was at the piano, a thought hit me. I was thinking of songs to play and remembered one that I liked but had not heard in years. I still remember when I was first introduced to it by my dad. Music was never at the top of my list from all my memories of him, all the things we shared and all the things we didn’t. However, today when I thought of that song, so many of the songs and genres I learned about from him started cascading. His style was so varied from classical records, new age music, flamenco, ballads, opera, and instrumental songs, and he loved his extensive music collection that everyone borrowed from. He challenged me to hear whatever was out of my comfort zone and learn from new musicians. I felt immense gratitude for the love for music he inspired in me and for all the memories we shared even when it seemed that we did not have that much time together between his demanding career, me leaving Venezuela young, and his passing ten years after. But those sweet memories prevail in my heart.

Later in the day, I am sitting by the fire with my three kids, listening to their recommended songs and discussing life. Two older teenagers that think like grown women and a young boy that makes us laugh with his wild imagination. And I realized how blessed I am to build new memories with them, being absolutely in the present while having that burning feeling that whatever we live today might come back to them one day while sitting in front of a fire or while listening to a song on the radio. We are both memories and presence at the same time, and I am glad both ends of my stick fill my heart with so much candor.

And between memories and feelings, I remembered a poem by Jose Angel Buesa, “the poem of Things” (extract)

“...It is also possible that an afternoon of boredom

as blooms a groove, an passion will be reborn

and then learn that there are things like the river

That are leaving forever, but they are not going...

...As much as you prefer to ignore these things

You’ll know why listening to a song you sigh

and then you’ll learn that there are things like roses,

things that are beautiful, without knowing that they are.

And one afternoon, you will feel that you're gone

and a puff of ash will water your garden

and you’ll learn then, that the time and forgetfulness

are the only things that never end.”

For all the time that we have and the memories we will never forget!