Every once in a while, we hear a song on the radio. Maybe we were kids when its melodies stuck in our minds with comforting memories. The song triggers an emotion in us…maybe its hymns bring tears, a smile, pain. Where where we when we heard this song?
Maybe down those never ending rows of people in a sanctuary saying goodbye to a loved one lost. The song emphasized who this person was, “Look at the stars, look how they shine for you…and everything you do.” Maybe we where driving away from a chaotic scene, driving harder, faster away from destruction, “Have heart, my dear we’re bound to be afraid even if it’s just for a few days making up for all this mess.”
It is kind of cliche and ironic to recall this story now. When I was four years old, I remember begging my mom to play the “purple song.” I would cry until she’d reluctantly say “Again Brittany Taylor good lord!” I know it must seem silly…but there had to have been symbolic meaning then…well to some extent. Driving away from a broken home, a cold April night.*Crash* glass shatters on the kitchen tile. Mom was crying the hardest I’d seen. So I cried. She scooped me out of my bed, threw me in the car, and we sped away down the long driveway. I didnt understand why she was holding her hand, how did she get hurt so late at night? She always placed my hand under hers on the gear shift. I finally mustered up the courage to as. “Mommy?” She answered, “The purple song?.”You say you want a leader, But you can’t seem to make up your mind. I think you better close it, And let me guide you to the purple rain.”
Songs can bring us back, motivate us to move forward. I can’t tell you why that specific song. But the times when it comes on in the car radio now fourteen years later, my eyes well up with tears…and my mom puts her hand over mine of the gear shifter.