How Richard Marx Jacked My Life Up

Music is my emotional medium.

Metal is my genre.

Feeling the beat, listening to the music, it is like honey to my soul. It soothes me. It helps me regulate.

And one day, Richard Marx elbowed his way onto the scene with a song that made me catch my breath.

Over and over and over, I could not stop listening to his music. Turns out he's still cooking, in case you wondered if he graduated beyond Right Here Waiting and Hazard. Oh yes, yes he did. 😎😳

I'm in a Press 1 for Therapy minute of life, taking out every possible trauma, examining it like a rock hound and, once it's all polished and shiny, carefully putting it on the shelf next to the rest of my collection.

So I dug in, trying to figure out what this was. I got nothing.

For weeks this went on, much to my dismay. I tried going back to Demon Hunter, and it felt so empty. WTF, indeed.

Finally, I threw up my hands and decided to go seeking tour dates. It was starting to look like the only way out was through. He'd just released a new album, so maybe?

I clapped my hands in delight to discover that he was, in fact, touring right now.

Things took a bit of a turn when the closest location was in California, an hour away from The One I Never Grieved. Well of course it was. I hadn't thought about that guy in at least a few months. 😅

I slept on it. Driving that far wasn't out of the question, but it was a big ordeal and Lincoln in July was not my idea of a good time.

All that next day, nostalgia took hold. So with a $.95 purchase, I grabbed some contact info and sent a text. Then I decided to refresh the tour page to see if just maybe there were new dates closer.

There were! One in Washington and two in Oregon. I scouted for nice hotels within walking distance and narrowed it down to one that also just so happened to be a close drive to my favorite coastal destination, which led me to see if my favorite beach house, unavailable all last year, was available.

It was. Of course it was.

So I booked the concert, the hotel and the beach house.

And the next morning, I woke to:

Hey Meggles, long time no talk.

Literally the only person in the world who can get away with calling me a nickname.

I was expecting to reconnect with someone I once deeply loved.

I didn't expect the complete unraveling that would happen once I did.

It's been about three weeks, and in that time I have explored mother wounds, past love, present love and traumas I'd thought I'd long healed through.

Healing is like a spiral. Every time you come back around to a wound, you're bringing with you the tidbits of wisdom you've gained along the way.

When you pick up that polished rock on the next turn of the spiral, you'll find another piece of dirt you missed. A little time, a little attention and the piece you put back on the shelf takes on even more beauty for you to admire next time you look at it.

Spring is springing, and the girl who walked into winter is walking out a woman, healing from the past in order to embrace the present.

Like Waiting for a Star to Fall, Richard Marx inadvertently took me on a journey of discovery into wounds I didn't expect to find still waiting so patiently for me to excavate them.

Honestly? I'm a little scared to turn on the radio again. 😅