“Enter Sandman” is a great song by Metallica. I have heard this song many, many times and although I have always liked it, it never held personal meaning for me until Saturday, April 2, 2016. In David’s and my house, music is almost always playing. One of the first things I do upon waking every morning is turning on the radio; for a long time, turning on the radio has meant commercial free satellite radio. My listening preferences vary, including by time of day and day of the week. Saturdays are new hard rock days, as far as radio listening goes. On this particular Saturday, while awaiting the arrival of out of town guests, David and I were eating breakfast while listening to the radio. “Enter Sandman” began to play and, just when the chorus began, the telephone rang. The caller was our cat’s veterinarian, who, when I answered the phone, said, “I’m so sorry. I’m going to ruin your weekend.” I left the room, knowing what he was going to say before he said it. The previous day, I had taken David’s and my extremely ill Siamese cat to the veterinarian, fearing the worst but, all the while, hoping for the best as it concerned a myriad of symptoms that had recently developed. The kind vet, who has provided loving care to four of our cats over the past 25 years, described the terrible situation our dear cat, Gizmo, faced, concluding with his opinion there was nothing that could be done to save him. By the time I finished talking with the cat doctor, as he is known, the Metallica song had ended, leaving its indelible mark on David’s and my lives forever. Interested readers can read all of the lyrics to this song, but I will conclude this post by noting its timeliness and quoting its chorus:
Exit: light
Enter: night
Take my hand
We’re off to never never land
And, with that we were into night, though it was not yet 10 a.m. Fortunately, fresh from Ft. Myers, were 2 rays of light that kept the darkness at bay. But, once again, a strange coincidence had given us the powerful Metallica song, at a time, determined by some anonymous DJ or programmer that it was, sadly, apropos. This occurrence of music and life, or death, afflicted me much earlier in life also. Two times in my teen years I attended a funeral, once for my grandfather, and upon returning to the car both times, turned on the radio to find Led Zeppelin’s classic “Stairway to Heaven” playing. How this possibly happens, I don’t know. I know these 3 music-life events happened, but the timing is stunning. Sometimes in life, we are just along for the ride, not knowing how things coincide. But, I will admit to being particularly aware and cautious whenever I hear the Blue Oyster Cult song, “Don’t Fear the Reaper” – and I’m a little glad that I’m still alive when it is over!
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