It is late. It is a weekday. My daughter is asleep. My husband has just left on an extended fishing trip. I’m tired but don’t want to go to sleep because it’s too nice to have these moments of time when I have a quiet house and, other than the fact that I have to be a productive mom and employee tomorrow, I am free to do as I wish. I love my life and family but, wow, these times when I can recall and revisit the piece of me that I rarely have time to explore anymore (the me when I was freer and learning all about myself and life) are so, so needed. I am grateful for these moments when I am given time to reconnect with that piece of myself.
I have spent some of my evening reading a guilty pleasure, Midnight Sun, the latest Twilight Saga, by Stephenie Meyer. I spent the other piece starting to watch, “No Direction Home: Bob Dylan” by Martin Scorsese. It’s a long documentary about Bob Dylan. It includes snippets of amazing music from other musicians too, such as Odetta, Woody Guthrie, and Betty Davis. I have always loved music, especially blues, country, and rock ‘n roll. All sorts of other genres too but those are my go-to’s. Dylan is up there with one of my favorite song writers. I know his story but always find learning about him, his journey, and the pivotal point in history when he was coming into his own fascinating.
As I was listening to and watching this documentary, I was reminded of just how much I enjoy listening to music. It’s not something I forgot about myself by any means but it’s something I’ve had to modify or adapt to my current life. As I reflect on this more, I am a little melancholy that I cannot have music playing in the house very often anymore, especially at a volume louder than to only be heard a few steps away. I can and do occasionally, especially when I’m cleaning or cooking (as a distraction and as a joy, respectively) play music. When I’m cleaning I tend towards 80s playlists. When cooking, it’s typically blues, Fleetwood Mac, or a 50s/early 60s rock ‘n roll playlist like Fats Domino and Ben E. King.
Generally what happens is I get through a song or two, maybe 3 or 4, and either Eva or John walk in. I’ll be mid-chop, dicing a bell pepper, tapping into my inner Julia Child, hips swaying to the tune, humming along (no one wants to hear my singing), and have to turn it down or off. For Eva, it’s usually because she wants to talk or show me something or help me in the kitchen, all of which take attention and music can become a distraction. For John, it’s because he’s just woken up, wants to talk, or the like and the music is a major interruption to his thought process and the health of his brain. At times, I can get away with playing it for longer though and it’s a pure joy. I swear my cooking improves because of it. I can more easily pour my love into the meal.
This is one aspect of something I really enjoy and honestly have a deep down yearning for that I have learned to be adaptable with. I can put my earbuds in, I can turn the music down, I can pause it until my attention is no longer required, I can jam out in the car later or on my morning run (although that is typically time I devote to my audiobooks), or I can turn it off and know it will be there for me when the time is right, such as on this lovely evening.
Before ending, I also feel compelled to mention that, because of John’s TBI, he can no longer listen to certain types of music. This includes anything that doesn’t have a distinct rhythm, such as jazz or funk. Fortunately, these are not my favorites. Yet, this is something I consider when playing any of my music when John is in hearing range. Certain types of music will instantly launch him into a fuzzy or even bad brain day. I am always gauging his body language and facial expressions while music is playing. I will respond immediately and without comment if I notice a slight twinge from him by turning the music off or lowering the volume. Sometimes something as simple as going to the next song is enough to keep the balance. Often this occurs without him even noticing, which is great. I don’t want John to feel bad about me having to change my behavior to fit into his TBI world. He feels guilty enough about it. While music is important to me, it’s something I can adapt.
As always, please comment, share, or ask questions.
TBI Spouse (and Others) 