Music.

I am not a musician.

I can stumble my way through basic primary songs on the piano, and can play in Sacrament meeting if given a week's notice and the freedom to choose the songs myself.

When I was in the seventh and eighth grade, I played the Oboe, but gave it up when I started high school and decided swim team, and journalism were more my speed than band.

I can sing well enough in a choir, and offer a decent alto to the mix - just don't ask me to sing a solo. And don't ask me to sing soprano. I sound six years old then.

But.

Music has always been a huge part of my life. I grew up in a musical home. Basic learning was required - we were taught to read music, to identify harmony, to appreciate different instruments. And we were taught to appreciate the power and goodness that is good music.

I was eight years old when my entire family traveled to the Fox Theater in Atlanta, GA to watch a Broadway performance of The Phantom of the Opera. I still remember the dress I wore, and the particular view from my seat. And I remember the swelling emotion that came from simply listening.

I remember the year I discovered how desperately I loved Les Miserables, the many hours of pretending that I was young Cosette, and then deciding that I'd really rather be Eponine after all.

I remember singing along to my parents' favorites, to John Denver, James Taylor, and the Beatles. I remember in the 8th grade, when my best friend who loved country music gave me a copy of Vince Gill's Whenever you come Around. I was hooked. I'm not sure my family ever understood the passion for country music that took me to 2 Tim Mcgraw concerts and persisted until I graduated from high school. I still love some country music, though not quite to the extent that I did then.

And then, I could probably write an entire post about music and my faith... there are so many instances when my testimony has been strengthened, when I have felt uplifted and truly felt the presence of my Heavenly Father through music.

They are a part of me... all these songs that are linked to memories, to emotions. I will never listen to Les Miserables when I don't, if only for a brief moment, think of my first love, and how he once quoted the words that Marius sang about his beloved Cosette. I will not hear Extreme's More than Words without thinking of my very first mixed cd, and the dear friend that made it for me. I will not hear I Could not Ask for More, by Edwin McCain without thinking of my sweet husband, who nearly ten years ago, danced with me at our wedding reception to that very song and is still "all I waited for." (Oh shut up. Cheesy, I know. But it's true. So um, deal, would you?) I Will be Here, will always be Henry's song... it was playing when he was born.

And it isn't just memories... music still makes me happy. I have a live Coldplay album that will forever remain in the number one spot in my cd player... I can't listen to it without remembering how awesome the concert was. It makes me smile just thinking about it. William Joseph will always make me feel like writing. Chris Daughtry will always make me feel like running.

I wonder if we take it for granted... the constant presence that music is in so many different aspects of our lives. I mean, think about the most dramatic scene in any movie. It wouldn't be near as dramatic if there wasn't a powerful musical score to accompany it.

I think, perhaps, life without music is like writing without punctuation. It simply loses all it's meaning.

What do you think?