My family enjoyed "making music". And that is exactly what it was appropriately called. The first warm-fuzzy-I-am-somebody feeling happened at 5 years of age while riding in a 1950 Ford with Dad, Mother, an older brother and an older sister. I don't think there was a working radio in the car, we sang so much in my memories that I'll go ahead and say there wasn't a radio at all. When I suggested we sing "I'll Fly Away", a unanimous favorite to which we all knew all of the words, Dad asked me to lead it out. And lead it out I did.
From that time throughout my entire life, music has been so much more important than I ever imagined. I have a thousand songs in my head. I certainly don't know all the words or even the melodies, but a memory is attached to a majority of the songs I've ever heard. With whom, doing what, wherever, whenever - none of that has ever left my memory even if I can't remember a lot, or much, or anything specific.
Music surreptitiously accompanies your soul throughout the process of living. The gamut of emotions, the need to remember something you do remember, Music is the invisible baggage we all carry, and it has no weight but can be as heavy or as light as the moments of you. Carry it proudly and hold on to it with zeal, for even as your specifics become whitewashed or fade away, the memory of that touch, that smile, that joy, that roller coaster, that kiss, that crazy night out with a hooker and a Jew, whatever your memories are, there is a soundtrack. Enjoy it, for it is as much a part of you as your five or six senses. Live. Shut up, and Dance to your Music!