I’d rather go blind

My Joe loved music. All music. When we first met his tastes were a bit more on the harder rock side like Metallica and Nine Inch Nails. Fun fact, you can drive from Dallas, Texas to Tulsa, Oklahoma in the time it takes to listen to the Nine Inch Nails album “Pretty Hate Machine” twice. But don’t try it. That traffic ticket would be very expensive today.

Joe roadied for a local band that played 50’s and 60’s rock-n-roll and spent a lot of his time playing DJ at the same bar the band played at. He had the most eclectic vinyl collection I had ever seen, and even some 45’s that took me back to my childhood years. Live music was a treat for me, but Joe’s concert history was long and storied starting in middle school. Tales of crawling through parking garages to get a glimpse of Ann & Nancy Wilson from Heart and sleeping on the sidewalk after a concert just to get in line for the next one filled his history.

When we got married the music was the most important part of the ceremony. I walked down the aisle on my son’s arm to Don Henley’s “Taking You Home” and back up that aisle on my man’s arm to James Brown’s “I Feel Good”. The joy on everyone’s faces was so priceless!

There were songs for certain things, specific party songs that were always played, songs only Joe and certain friends sang together, and playlists for every occasion. Of course, as we aged our taste in music expanded and changed. Bluesy rock and soulful sounds became Joe’s favorite choices early in the evenings sitting in our outdoor bar, watching the dogs play and the hummingbirds feed. He always had music playing. In the bathroom while he was showering, on the motorcycle while we cruised, in his ears while he pushed himself at the gym. Music soothed him through horrific cancer treatments and serenaded us on vacation on our favorite beach watching the sunrise.

To watch his face when certain songs would begin to play was honestly so beautiful. One particular song was actually a cover of Etta James’ hit “I’d Rather Go Blind” by Gov’t Mule. You could literally watch all the tension in his body just wash away when this song would start. He’d close his eyes, sing the words quietly, and get lost in the lyric.

Music was life to my Joe. It carried him through the toughest and the most beautiful moments. And thanks to his Amazon playlist and our little Bluetooth speaker in his hospital room, his music guided him all the way to heaven.

It was hard at first to listen to the music. But it’s a connection I have with him that I never want to lose. So, in the words of the late, great Etta James “I’d rather go blind” then to ever stop hearing the music.