The Day the Music Died

I’m not going to say I don’t, because I do.

I miss the music.

As a former forever dancer, music moves a part of my soul. And when a good song comes on, my body naturally responds. 

I didn’t expect there would come a day in my life where the music would no longer play.

But that day did in fact, slither its way in. I can’t specifically point to a date or an event when my world fell silent.

Rather, it crept in quietly, unannounced. Very much like autism, itself.

Fourteen years ago I became a mom for the first time to my son, Anthony. Five years later, I became a mom once more to my daughter, Gia. 

And at eighteen months old, the rhythm of our lives changed significantly when my bundle of pink experienced what we now know to be, an autistic regression.

In those early days of diagnosis, I found solace and an instinctual bond by dancing with my daughter. And I sang to her. And she loved the dance … and the music. It helped her to regulate and eventually find her words. 

And then one nondescript day, music made her cry. 

And the pain that it caused her meant a welcomed silence fell upon our house. A small sacrifice for her comfort. 

As I became “we” and less of “me”, that piece of me, an integral part, retreated inward, nestled securely in her cocoon.

And while she lay dormant, she’s still very much a part of me, an adhesion of who I once was and who I still very much am.

As a caregiving mom, I have discovered that we are far more resilient than we recognize.

And finding my way back to the music is a testament to that creativity and adaptiveness.

I have found great enjoyment in my ear buds. Car rides by myself are loud and most likely a violation of noise ordinance. 

I can be found at any given time walking about my home, with one select earbud in. Only one. This ensures I can both hear and be available to Gia. I keep the volume low. So low, she can tolerate being in close proximity to me … and the music. 

We are making progress. I say “we” because we’re in this together and being a parent to a child with significant needs, it's imperative to learn ways to live alongside your loved one, in a way that honors you both.

So, if you see a song that I’ve shared on my social media, keep in mind it’s only me on the other end of this ear bud.

And sometimes you just have to share a good tune.