Landslide...
There are so many versions of the song Landslide, a tune which almost always has me feeling melancholy, and my favorite one to date is the one by Tori Amos, which she did when I saw her in concert last week. It literally had me bawling, which does not happen to me very often at concerts. I was listening to a CD mix that my sweet friend D burned for me after the concert, on which she downloaded Tori's version of Landslide and every time I listen to it, I find myself welling up with emotion. Perhaps it's because I'm listening to it in a more mindful and personal way and it has so much more meaning for me as I am keenly aware of getting older (not getting OLD, because I have so much of a kid in me and don't feel my age at all; but rather, it is the recognition of being at a stage in my life where I do a lot of reflection and introspective thinking about where I've been and what I still wish for, want to accomplish, etc...) Also, as I hear this song, esp. Tori's version and I think back about that evening (which I had posted about last week, but have since deleted), the lyrics of this song speak a lot to my relationship with D, which is like a mother-daughter one in many ways and yet in other ways it is one which, if it occurred in a different time period and without the huge gap btwn our ages, could've been an intense love affair. She is now beginning to date some women, who are in their late 20's (D is 22) and I am watching her blossom and grow and it is beautiful and at the same time I am experiencing this sense of loss -- perhaps grieving what our relationship once was (we used to spend so much more time together, she looked to me as a mentor/advisor) and longing to have that same sense of importance in her life, but recognizing in my rational mind that everything changes and to resist will only impede our growth. I am also missing her terribly right now, as she checked in on Monday evening to a specialty psych unit in Baltimore, MD for a comprehensive treatment program to address her DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder). I know this was a big step for her to take, as she will likely be there for several weeks and it's going to be very intense, yet she will come out on the other side in a much more healed and hopefully more integrated way. I will visit her on Saturday for the afternoon (a 3 hr drive each way from here) and then I won't see her likely until I return from Hawaii (May 15). This distance and time apart, I believe now, is as much for my healing as it is for hers. "Time makes you bolder, children get older, and I'm getting older too ..."