If you’ve been reading sound bath on the regular, you probably noticed there was a lull. Seven weeks ago, I was really excited to write. Well, “motivated” might be a more accurate description. Seven weeks ago I was ready to write the most epic and beautiful story about the healing power of music. I was ready to write about dancing to “Float” by Janelle Monáe in the ICU waiting room and finding out my unconscious friend’s eyes started to move around the same time. I was ready to write about playing Mozart's Sonata for Two Pianos in D major (K.448) in his hospital room because there was light evidence showing it could help calm seizures - and that it was working. Actually, I was excited to write. I was excited to write about how music saved my friend. But I didn’t get to write that post.

The heartbreak of losing a friend is deep. The heartbreak of watching my ride or die friend going through the pain of losing her ride or die partner is cavernous. But the heartbreak of realizing music can’t heal everything fucked with me. It made it hard to write about the studies that show the medical impact of music. It made it hard to write about how music helped me recover from the tree. And it made it hard to keep packing up my place and say goodbye to a city that has given me so much and taken away more than I thought was possible.

It wasn’t until Aaren asked me to send her music that reminded me of Dave that I felt like I could write again. I didn’t have a “song” that was quintessentially Dave. He never shared an album, or artist, or genre that he favored more than any other. He played all music - from the most awesome to painfully questionable. That always blew my mind but it was another example of how open and loving Dave was. But when I thought about what music made me think of Dave, Kaytraminé instantly came to me.

I took Dave and Aaren to see the Portland rapper and Montreal DJ play their summer collab album at Edgefield as a “thank you” for taking care of me after the tree. No “thank you” could really be big enough for everything they did for me: being my mom’s support crew while I was in the hospital, coming over to wash my hair in my kitchen sink every Saturday, scoping out restaurants they could take me to in my wheelchair. But taking them to the show and getting a coveted handicapped parking spot in the outdoor venue notorious for the longest parking lot exit was a start. That day we got great music, with a great crowd, on a great day with perfect weather…and we were the first car out of the venue. It was close to perfection.

I don’t think Dave listened to Kaytraminé before the show but he still had a great time. I’m pretty sure he knew music was my love language and the best way I could express my gratitude to the people I love. I don’t know if Dave listened to Kaytraminé after the show. I don’t know if one of their songs came on while he was washing the dishes or driving his car. And I don’t know if he ever put on their album, thought about the day the three of us had, and smiled. But I have. And I will. Always.

Thanks for reading.

Now go listen to some music.

🫀+🎧