Sunny Sloth by Monster Rally

This song doesn't make me cry anymore.

Here's the story:

Every single time I heard this song, my husband and I coincidentally would have an adventure.

Every. Single. Time.

Like, the one time the song came on just as we were pulling up to a series of bounce houses that were unoccupied. Surprised, we jumped out of the car and jumped in all of the bounce houses until we were exhausted, marveling over how we got to do this without pesky kids, and it was only on the way back to the car, laughing and stumbling with our weak legs, did we notice the very angry people who had formed lines waiting to get in--as this was a department store opening and that was part of the celebration. And no adults were allowed--the angry adults were standing there with angry children.

Or the time the song came on just as we turned a corner in some city in Illinois on an impromptu road trip and happened upon a street fair. Blocks and blocks of food and music and joy on a perfect summer day.

Or the time the song came on right when I opened up the test results online and learned that the cancer had not come back. It was playing in the background when I read the results to my brother on the phone. My husband was holding my hand.

Many months after the divorce papers had been signed, I was in a park I know not where anymore. And on someone's Bluetooth speaker a few meters away, that song came on.

And I sobbed and sobbed.

The emotions tied to the memories were still very strong, so my grief came out of my eyes. Until then, I had no idea how many memories were tied to that song, how many glorious moments had been experienced riding the waves of someone's creation like that.

This is the power of music.

Yesterday, as I finished editing a composition, I fired up the music app, and Monster Rally's Sunny Sloth came on.

And it filled me with joy.

I smiled as I bobbed my head to the song (it IS a happy song) and then I moved on with my day with a skip to my giddyup.

This is the power of music.