For the shortest month February has packed a lot into it this year and in some ways has felt like it was never going to end. But here we are in it’s last several days. Today would have been Daughter Number One’s 28th birthday, you know, if she were still alive. But she isn’t.
I spent last night with a gorgeous friend and I am so very glad that I did. Tonight I have tickets to see Carl Barron which Son Number Two gave me for my birthday. We are going with more friends so it will be a night of living and laughing and loving. It will be good.
Son Number Two has really started to explore and appreciate music in the last six months. Now I have to ask him to take his headphones out when I want to speak to him! But it’s great and it makes me very happy. I am enjoying watching him discover and enjoy music for himself.
It’s funny how songs can transport us. I have been listening to The Cars this week. Songs I used to listen to by playing a cassette tape (just google it kids!) while staying at the house of the sons of one of my mother’s friends in Redfern. I used to travel to Sydney for drama classes and stay overnight. The sons were in their twenties. I was around sixteen. The house permanently smelt, of dope and other things best left unexplored. Dank and dark and barely standing, there were holes in the walls and treads missing on the stairs. The walls that were still standing were covered in artwork and script. I wish I’d taken photos now.
The December I turned sixteen my mother left me on New Years Eve with these same guys. At sixteen I looked about twelve. They took me out to Kings Cross with them and we spent the night at the Kardomah Cafe. I spent the night speaking to a middle aged American man who was flying out of Sydney the next day.
Music feels like a time machine, transporting me back to people and places and sounds and smells. That New Years Eve was over thirty years ago now. My Daughter was born two years later. I can still feel it all but I can’t reach out and touch her.
And I really wish I could.