Lucho recently bought us a record player, as this is something we've been dreaming of these past few months. The thought of sitting and listening to old music how it was originally intended to be listened to just seemed so romantic, and in a relationship so full of love, it seemed fitting.
Naturally, one of the first albums we purchased was Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon. D'uh.
Last night, we put on Dark Side of the Moon and just listened. We could hear each note that was written to be played as music and we could feel the intimacy that the record player brought to the room. It was exactly how I thought listening to this album properly would be.
As the songs played on, I couldn't help but feel sad. This album IS my father. There is nothing more 'Malcolm' than Pink Floyd. This feeling brought me a feeling of love, but also a feeling of loneliness. I remember being young and living with my family in our home - the only place that I have ever really called home, and hearing this album played from time to time. I'd go downstairs, get shushed by my father and stand beside him, not even realizing the beauty of what we were listening to. I'd ask him questions and he wouldn't get mad at me, but he wasn't overly stoked that he had to pause his music. I never really understood this until last night, when I was taking the trip down memory lane. I sat there, remembering what it was like to have my family so close, including the dogs and just living. I missed it. I remember the look of absolute tranquility on my father's face when he would be listening to his music. Hell, I even remember him being an idiot wit his headphones on, when I wouldn't have the slightest clue what he was dancing and singing to.
I finally understand why he didn't like being interrupted, as he was in another place, one of complete freedom in his memories.
I sent him a message and he told me that he too had listened to that album last night. Somehow this didn't surprise me, but rather it made perfect sense.
We will always have the music and with that, we can take those trips down memory lane and live with our beloved pets again, if only for a little while.
Naturally, one of the first albums we purchased was Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon. D'uh.
Last night, we put on Dark Side of the Moon and just listened. We could hear each note that was written to be played as music and we could feel the intimacy that the record player brought to the room. It was exactly how I thought listening to this album properly would be.
As the songs played on, I couldn't help but feel sad. This album IS my father. There is nothing more 'Malcolm' than Pink Floyd. This feeling brought me a feeling of love, but also a feeling of loneliness. I remember being young and living with my family in our home - the only place that I have ever really called home, and hearing this album played from time to time. I'd go downstairs, get shushed by my father and stand beside him, not even realizing the beauty of what we were listening to. I'd ask him questions and he wouldn't get mad at me, but he wasn't overly stoked that he had to pause his music. I never really understood this until last night, when I was taking the trip down memory lane. I sat there, remembering what it was like to have my family so close, including the dogs and just living. I missed it. I remember the look of absolute tranquility on my father's face when he would be listening to his music. Hell, I even remember him being an idiot wit his headphones on, when I wouldn't have the slightest clue what he was dancing and singing to.
I finally understand why he didn't like being interrupted, as he was in another place, one of complete freedom in his memories.
I sent him a message and he told me that he too had listened to that album last night. Somehow this didn't surprise me, but rather it made perfect sense.
We will always have the music and with that, we can take those trips down memory lane and live with our beloved pets again, if only for a little while.