Jordan’s Soundtrack
Sometimes all it takes is a song. Then I’m missing Jordan and wondering how did so many years go by. I didn’t know it could be this long. That the accumulating years would veer to more years without him than with him. Jordan was energy, passion and anger, stubbornness, humor, and love infused with wit and smarts and his beautiful disarming smile. He was/is my son.
A song was always accompanying him, announcing his entrance, projecting his mood. Happy meant Lupe, Nas, Lil Wayne. Introspective meant Coltrane and Miles. Creative was anything new where the underlying beat or the melody was a hook and hooked him into another genre. The car radio playing “Strawberry Letter 23.” Him asking, “What’s that?”- And then he was off in his own head, making music inspired by a new to him song. Carefree bursting out in song could mean, “Dude Looks like a lady,” to the peals of laughter of his sisters and me. Removing his earbuds as he walked through the door after school humming, “Trouble Man,” by Marvin Gaye signaled he had a lot of homework.
As he packed his things for his freshman year of college I heard “This Christmas,” from the speakers in his room. Sticking my head in the door of his room, eyeing the dorm essential checklist he’d taped to the wall by his desk, there he was bouncing to the music as he packed. I watched for a moment before I asked, “Dude it’s August, what’s up with the Christmas music?”
His simple answer- “It reminds me of home.”
My simple reply- “Carry on.”
Jordan’s life had a soundtrack and here was another song that filled his story. I turned to leave, feeling tears ready to fall, thinking of how different the rhythm of the house would be without his daily energy.
October 12, 2023, marks 15 years since Jordan’s been gone. I still get caught by surprise when a song I connect with him is playing. I look around, leading with the longing of my mama heart wondering why I wasn’t warned or asked permission. Because of course the world should know my boy is gone. I try not to turn away and instead lean into remembering. Who knew, hearing Trouble Man would make me look towards the front door, waiting, hoping for Jordan to come in humming his tunes?
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