{It is not my intent for this to come across as melancholy. It was just an observation.}
When I was a teen in the 80’s, it was a big deal for a couple to have their “song.” At a school dance, you could hear any number of girls tell their date, “Oh, that’s our song! Let’s dance!” Good thing each song didn’t have a limit as to who could designate it as the one perfect song for that couple, or some couples would have to sit out. “I’m sorry,” the Police might say. “You can’t have Every Breath You Take as your song, because ten thousand other people have used this obsessive, stalker song as an anthem of their love. Cheerio!” Although I’m sure some of the boys wouldn’t have minded. I remember one female classmate made a big deal about the “song” she and her boyfriend had. I think it was “You’re the Inspiration” by Chicago but they had so many love ballads in the 80’s I could be wrong. (Personally, my favorite Chicago song was “Stay the Night.” I like to think that I didn’t really know what that meant when I was 13 but like many of my generation, I knew what button combination unlocked the “naughty” channel on the cable box. If you know, you know.)
My husband and I started dating while I was in high school when this was a normal practice for couples. I was part of the “our song” crowd, but he was a couple years older and had probably already had a couple girlfriends that had imposed their “song” on him. That being said, we never had a specific song that defined our relationship, but since he passed away in 2014, there are certain songs that I hear and think of him and think “maybe this is our song:”
“Fields of Gold” by Sting. That was playing when he … proposed. It was more like “ok, we’ve been together 7 years, here’s a ring and please don’t make me say it.” I should have made him work for it, but whatever. We got married 6 years after that. (13 years of dating, for anyone counting.)
“Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd. I wanted to walk down the aisle to this song, but was overruled. (We were married on November 4, 2000, and I originally wanted to be married the weekend before and have a Halloween themed wedding with all the guests in costume. I was overruled in this too. I can’t blame Phil for this. Our mothers put the kibosh on that idea and I don’t think we knew we could assert ourselves.)
“From this Moment” by Shania Twain. This is the song we picked for our first dance at our wedding. Neither one of us were big country fans, but none of our tastes had a song that would work. I agonized for months about which song we should pick and finally made the executive decision to go with this one. Which leads to…
Almost every song from Pink Floyd, The Police and Rush. For a decade and a half-ish this was the majority of music we listened to. Don’t get me wrong, I listened to other stuff, but it was mostly whatever was on the radio during my commute. Pink Floyd, The Police and Rush become important later.
“Who Wants to Live Forever” by Queen from Highlander (We loved that movie and I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw it 100 times. For years I burst into tears when Connor would call out “Heaaaatheeeeeeer!” Phil would say it in the same voice.)
Every so often I would hear a song, look at Phil and say “Huh. Is this our song?” He would look at me, not answer and continue with whatever he was doing. My inner 80’s teen screamed out “We need a song!” but my adult self realized that isn’t something that should be forced.
I’m a radio listener, and maybe because I am the ‘mixtape” generation, I habitually switch from one preprogrammed station to another. After Phil died, there were occasions when I would land on a station and it would be a song that held some meaning regarding our relationship. It usually coincided with a time when our girls had a milestone or I was feeling blue. Normally I wouldn’t think twice, but when a station normally plays rock music from the early 2000’s and then throws out a random Pink Floyd, Police or Rush song from decades ago, especially one that has “meaning,” it gives me pause.
So now there are songs that I hear that relate to a time in my life with Phil. I stop, close my eyes and think, “Ah, that’s not our song.”
Mom Solo 