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Today a very simple gratitude, but profound. Music. That ineffable language writers have tried to capture for centuries. Working to replicate its nuance, the way it creates dancing in the bones, melancholy in the heart.

I’m crazy about music. A song can play, and I’m immediately years in the past…possibly even a small child. Singing lullabies to my grandson, I am also sitting in my great-grandmother’s lap, as my grandmother braids her long white hair, listening: Hush little baby, don’t you cry…Daddy’s gonna be back by & by… It’s an eerie feeling, to be the preschooler and the grandmother, both listening in the past and singing in the present.

Today I moved music files from one computer to another, marveling at how much music I’ve managed to accumulate. Of course, the old LPs are long gone — the kids (now grown men) cashed them in when we passed the last old box on to them. But there are still vestiges of an earlier, pre-kids me: old folk music, old rock’n’roll. The Bach I played on the piano, and still love passionately. There are many many female vocalists, and a lot of smooth jazz. And waaay too much holiday music!

A few years ago my younger son gave me Spotify for Christmas — an entire year. At the time I thought it a profligate (and ???) gift. But I’ve come to love the freedom of exploring an artist, and having the music available everywhere. Car, work, desk, traveling. I’ve renewed it twice since.

It’s definitely an everyday gratitude — something that is present in most hours of my day. I sing to my dogs, even! I recommend it: a hearty dose of music, whatever you like. It’s pretty much free, if you sing it yourself. 🙂

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