Sad Songs

Dave always asks me why I always choose sad songs to sing.  That's a good question.  As I think about it, I have always chosen to sing the sad ones.  I guess it's not just sad songs, it's songs that express raw, usually painful, emotions.  That's not entirely true.  When I was in third grade, one of the first solos I sang was from Mary Poppins.  There's not very many sad songs in that show if I remember correctly.  ;)  However, one of the first soundtracks with which I fell in love (after Zanadu - whose songs I can still sing upon request) was Yentl.  Why would a nine or ten year old girl fall in love with the emotionally painful music of Yentl.  I used to crank up the sound on that turntable in my living room and sing with Barbra Streisand like my heart felt what she felt.  "Where is it written what it is I'm meant to be. . ." Yentl feels different.  She doesn't fit in with the culture around her.  She feels it in her bones that she doesn't relate to them.  She wants different things for herself.  But, and this is key, who is she then?  Where does she fit in?  What does she believe?  Can she live with the people around her and feel like such a stranger?  I felt those words and they meant something to me.  I felt different.  I felt like I didn't fit it somehow with everyone and everything around me.  It seemed like everyone accepted the cultural status quo without question.  I questioned EVERYTHING!  Why are the boys expected to do all of the outside jobs, while the girls are expected to clean up the table, especially when guests were present?  Why does my dad get to come home from work, sit at the table reading the paper, while my mom busies  herself getting dinner on the table even though she went to work herself that day?  Why do the young boys in our ward get to go boating, while the girls just go to wilderness camp?  Why are men treated differently than women?  Why does everyone believe everything about the gospel of our religion without question, when I have so many?  Those were distinct questions I had as a small girl.  Even now, with my youngest daughter comparable in age to me when I had those feelings and questions, I find it odd that I would have such questions at such a young age.  I have a friend with the gift to believe.  I guess I have the curse of questions.

Then, as I grew up, I continued to be different.  All teenagers are DIFFERENT.  They all feel like huge pimples on the nose of life.  So obviously different and awkward, they assume, everyone must be staring at me and everyone sees how odd I am.  But, I really was different.  Because of a series of events in my life, I felt like I was on another planet.  I remember looking at other kids my age and just knowing that we were existing in parallel universes, attending the same school, seeing the same people in the hallway, eating the same cafeteria food (those haystacks were delicious!), but I KNEW they had no idea who I was, and I KNEW we were so different.  Not just the everybody is different, but I was different.  I think those feelings are just feelings that became a part of who I was. 

Singing was the one thing I felt like I could do fairly well for my age.  I received  attention and compliments when I would sing, so I went where the accolades were.  It's also something that is so ingrained in my bones that I don't think I could help but sing.  My brothers would beg me to stop singing!  Yeah, BEG!! "Hey Kerstin, do you know why they sing on the radio?  So YOU don't have to!"  It didn't work. I don't think I could have stopped if I tried.  My middle daughter is much the same way.  We had to resurrect the rule of my childhood of no singing at the dinner table.  Now, I understand why we had that ridiculous rule! 

So, for the first almost 21 years of my life, I felt different, misunderstood, alone, odd, yet strangely somewhat confident in a very shallow, don't look too deep, way.  I met Dave and miracle of miracles he fell in love with me with all of my baggage and all.  He even said he loved me all the more.  Now it has been almost 20 more years since then, and I am happy, and empowered, and confident (ok, most of the time).  Yet, there are still parts of me that will always feel the pain and discomfort that I felt so acutely as I grew up.  And, there are still parts of me that feel odd, different, questioning, at odds with my culture. 

I  have so many happy parts of me to share, but I feel like people get to share that part of me all the time.  I feel like that's where I live on a daily basis.  When I sing, I dig deep because that's where my music lives, in the very recesses of my soul.  When I get lost in my music, it's because I have dug as deep as I can.  I guess deep down in those recesses, my soul longs to express those feelings that are still there even though I processed all of the hurt (I think anyway) years and years ago.  But, I am still finding ways in which those feelings still live.

So, through this music, I can share someone else's story and still express the feelings that I have, but I get to keep my story in my head, but still express those same feelings in my heart.  That's a long, kind of answer to Dave's question - I guess. :)