In the midst of my disbelief, I attempted to explain who Sarah McLachlan is to my young babysitter. “Oh, right,” she replied, nodding. “I think my best friend’s dad had some extra tickets to her concert.” Oh, the irony.
Sarah McLachlan—the voice that encapsulated my turbulent high school years and provided solace during the rollercoaster ride of college. The artist whose holiday album is still my favorite; the one who now pens heartfelt songs for her children, which I find myself dedicating to mine. Sarah has been the soundtrack of my life.
As I stood there, I realized this young woman had never heard of Sarah McLachlan, a painful reminder of how dated I felt. I squared my shoulders, glanced at my husband—who generously agreed to accompany me to her concert—and determinedly made my way to the car. “I’m not old,” I reassured myself. “Look at these stylish shoes I got from… uh, DSW. And this shirt from… well, Belk. But still, I AM NOT OLD!”
Upon arriving at the theater—a venue with plush, red velvet seating and assigned places—I surveyed the crowd and felt an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. Surrounding me were middle-aged couples enjoying a night out, where husbands dutifully trailed behind their wives, dressed in jeans and collared shirts. The women, equally clad in jeans, were buzzing with excitement, clad in all variations of black tops.
There were older attendees too; men in jean shorts and sandals, and women wearing the signature draped blouses from Chico’s. I found comfort in knowing I wasn’t the oldest person there, yet that realization somehow made me feel even older. The only person under 30 was an 8-year-old girl attending with her mother. Is this what Sarah McLachlan represents now—a concert for mothers and their young daughters?
Suddenly, fatigue washed over me. I was out past my bedtime, weary from a day of wrangling my kids, my feet aching from wearing heels for the first time in ages. All I craved was the comfort of my sweatpants and a good book—those never made me feel old; they made me feel at ease.
Yet, with red wine in hand, we maneuvered to our seats. As the lights dimmed and Sarah appeared on stage without an opening act, the music enveloped me, and in that moment, I was transported back in time.
Her enchanting voice took me on a journey through my past. I remembered the bittersweet feelings of leaving my arts school and dancing passionately in a dimly lit racquetball court while her songs played on repeat. I recalled driving down I-85 after a breakup, tears streaming down my face, singing along with Sarah as the wind swept my heartache away.
As the show progressed, her melodies resonated through the theater, and I was not just reminiscing; I was reliving those moments. I felt like that college girl again, struggling and yearning for acceptance, cocooned in a tiny dorm room. I felt the exhilaration of receiving my diploma, the world ahead of me filled with promise.
As the night unfolded, I was overcome with emotion. I embraced my younger self and whispered, “Don’t worry. Your life is about to embark on a wild and wonderful journey. If I told you where you’ll go, you wouldn’t believe it. Trust that everything will turn out fine. So just sit back and enjoy the music.”
Sadly, the perfect evening came to an end too soon. Renewed and invigorated, I climbed into the car, the empty child seats in the back reminding me of my responsibilities. As we drove home to relieve our babysitter, she asked, “How was the show?”
“Amazing! You really should listen to her music sometime.” For more on this topic, you can check out this great resource on home insemination kits. Also, if you’re interested in fertility treatment, this is an excellent resource: March of Dimes.
In conclusion, Sarah McLachlan’s music serves as a beautiful reminder that while age may change our circumstances, the power of music can transport us back to our youthful selves, where we can reconnect with our dreams and aspirations.