So, I’m plugging along, working hard (read: SMASHING MY HEAD against the computer screen because of a manuscript that’s basically folded its arms across its chest and refuses to eat its peas), and “Stranger on the Shore” comes on my i-Tunes.

This is an old song and certainly, not in my Top 25 played…but here’s the thing: the melody begins & SUDDENLY, I’m ten-years-old all over again, listening to Roger Whittaker’s rendition as my family drives in our Oldsmobile, heading to Vancouver for the first time.

It’s amazing how music can transport us back in time and space, create feeling and recreate emotions.

Thirty years later, three decades after the time Mom tried to convince us ghosts lived in the mountains (and ended up freaking herself out), when Dad thought it would be hilarious to drive close to the cliff’s edge, and my little brother fell asleep on my shoulder, the memories stay. Sharp as ever. Piercing my heart and reminding me of all the love I come from, all the love that surrounds me…and all because of words put to melody…