A House Is Not a Home

I usually feel like my life has a soundtrack. There was, and still is, a song for every moment.

If I hear Bee Gees, I remember the beach, my dad listening to music on a stereo that could power a dance, and me, very young, listening to those songs.

Christian singers from the 80s/90s remind me a lot of my uncles, the Baptist church I grew up in, and I remember the band that played and how I wanted to play with/like them, especially the keyboardist who I still have as a friend.

Songs make me travel, I go to places I’ve been and can’t return to, I hug people who are far away, I play with my memories and mix in reality.

A big novelty in the music area for me was when I learned to speak English. It was almost a miracle — out of nowhere, songs whose melody I loved started to have another life when I could understand the lyrics in real time, without needing a translation. That feeling still fascinates me.

Mixing memories and English songs, this week I heard a song whose melody I already knew, but it was one of those I had listened to when I didn’t know English, and out of nowhere it “leapt” into my ears, and I’ll confess that a stubborn tear fell.

Living far away makes us know lots of cool places, things we never imagined experiencing, but you’ll always imagine what it would be like to show this place to “that” person. There are places I’d like to take my friend Thiago, others I’d like to take Gui and Davi, there are other places that make me remember my sisters, my grandparents, but the most painful pain is when I’m somewhere and I say: “My dad/My mom would love to be here…” then it doesn’t matter if the place is cool, it stays just a common place.

I’ve been getting to know the world with the woman of my life, but I really want to share some places with my family and friends; while I can’t, I share the soundtrack…

A House is not a home – Kurt Elling

A chair is still a chair Even when there’s no one sitting there But a chair is not a house And a house is not a home When there’s no one there to hold you tight, And no one there for you to kiss goodnight.

A room is still a room Even when there’s nothing there but gloom; But a room is not a house, And a house is not a home When the two of us are far apart And one of us has a broken heart.

Now and then I call your name And suddenly, your face appears But it’s just a crazy game When it ends, it ends in tears.