I grew up in a small college town in Florida, where my older sister and I were raised by our single dad.

We saw our mom every other weekend, when things were going well.

Back then, I wasn't a musician. I had no desire, yet, to play an instrument. I certainly hadn't had much experience as a younger sister and none as an older and my idea of student was filled with playing with blocks and having to undergo the struggle of nap time. Back then, my "big shiny books" were learning to spell the word 'dog', eating without getting my karate gi dirty, and finally keeping my eyes open for a picture . Back then, things were seemingly much simpler. A fifth grader seemed like an adult to me, and the idea of growing up seemed so far away.

But change is always happening, and we are always growing.

So buckle up!

If you don't, my older sister Lauren and I are going to chant our new song "Buckle Up, Daddy" until you do. We're going on a trip down memory lane, and it's going to be a long ride so it's best that you do.

When I was younger, my sister and I would sing a song we wrote called "Buckle Up, Daddy" to get our Dad to buckle up when he got in the car. Progressively, we would raise the pitch about a half step every time and crescendo until he couldn't tolerate it anymore and finally buckle up with a sigh.

My Dad, sister, and I used to drive five hours south to see our extended family for the holidays. To pass the time, we would listen to music. We had a growing album on my dad's new phone, which would later come to represent our memories together at different stages of our life.

Listening to those songs again brings tears to my eyes because those songs weren't just my songs, they were our songs (even though we didn't write them) and they represented our bond as we grew up.

We would take turns playing our favorite songs. We even had arguments over who would go next. I remember so clearly my Dad orating the lyrics as if the song were a poem, and stopping the song to explain to us what the song was about. When a song didn't fit the mood, he would change it half way though and my sister and I would become quite annoyed.

He would tell us stories through the music: “The Cats in The Cradle” spoke of a son who grew up to be just like his dad (too busy to spend time with his son); “American Pi” spoke of the impact a famous musician made and the silence that overtook the town when he died; “Only the Good Die Young” represented my Dad's life as a college kid. He said he would play it at its maximum volume in his jeep when his best friend (who is still a close friend today) was driving closely next to him with the windows down.

As we grew older, that playlist of songs became even more diverse. It had my Dad's childhood favorites, work out songs, and whatever the latest hits were at different points in our life. If you were to make the entire album into a single song it would have solos from Pat Benatar, ACDC, Niki Minage, Charlie Puth, Hootie and the Blowfish, Uncle Cracker, Zendaya, the Vitamin String Quartet, Simon Garfunkel, Justin Timberlake, tunes from Man a la Mancha, a little bit from Guardians and the Galaxy soundtrack, our Pitch Perfect favorites, Kenny Rogers, George Watsky, One Republic, Journey, Train, Johnny Cash, Miley Cyrus,Tao Cruz, Black Eyed Peas, Eminem, Miranda Lambert, Faith Hill, Denis Leary, Cody Simpson, Steve Perry, Katy Perry, Beethoven, Mozart, Billy Joel, Matchbox Twenty, and the list goes on. There were no boundaries; The playlist was incredibly diverse, yet all of the songs came together to represent times in my life that characterized a great part of my childhood.

When we weren’t listening to music, we’d try to improvise poetry sometimes.

My dad would say a line and I'd try to create a line that would rhyme in some way.

I know it seems like these car rides took forever. It certainly felt that way at the time too. But after the bathroom breaks and talks, we eventually would make it to Miami.

At the time, those car rides were so easy to overlook. They were a normal part of our lives.

Those moments in the car came to be way more than just a way to pass time; They became a way to embrace the time that we had together- a fleeting moment in time where the three of us were together, reflecting upon life and not focused on anything else. Those car rides had a major impact on who I am today.

On the weekends we’d be with our mom, we had our own selection of music that bonded us together.

My mom stayed in my Grandma's house at the time, which always had and probably always will radiate with blues music. It was played so often, it became an air we breathed. If there's no saxophone playing from MTV, then run because that's not Grandma's house.

When it was time to be dropped off at our Dad's house again, I remember getting into my mom's red convertible and buckling up in my car seat. Lauren got the booster seat because she was bigger- which is how things usually went. As my mom drove, she played various songs while my sister and I would discuss things like the princesses that appeared over on our fancy new Bandaids- that is- until our mom played Joan Jette And the Blackheart's " I love Rock and Roll'. It stirred something within all of us. Suddenly, Lauren was jamming on the air guitar and I was bobbing my head and pretending to play the drums all while the three of us sang at the top of our lungs "I LOVE ROCK N' ROLL, STICK ANOTHER DIAMOND IN THE JUICE BOX BABY" (yes, I'm aware that the lyrics are "stick another dime in the jukebox baby", but at the time, those words didn't exist in our vocabulary so it was obviously talking about diamonds and juice boxes.

From then on, that became our song. That one song and our favorite made up word (which I will not share) that my mom made up to help us overcome our potty-word stage. Unlike my Dad's playlist, my mom had a song and it has and always will be our song.

Lauren and I did our fair share of song-writing on our own time too.

When my mom became pregnant with my little sister Lila, Lauren and I wrote a song called "Hey there Lila" which was "Hey there Delilah" but with different words. We'd sing "Hey there Lila, what's it like in Mommy's tummy?", as we'd place our ears on the surface of her belly to see if she'd respond.

When Lila was eventually born, she seemed to love the song "Boom Boom Pow" by Black Eyed Peas. She would start getting her groove on and it brought so much joy to all of us.

Lauren and I also used to listen to Shakira and Christina Aguilera CD albums our dad gave us on repeat on our pink Hello Kitty CD-player and radio. 

When we were taking showers, we'd bring it into the bathroom just as they did in those fancy restaurants. As much as we loved those songs, you can imagine the excitement we had when we realized how to turn the radio function on. Suddenly, kiss105.3 was our go to a music source. It was ALWAYS on. It helped us to fall asleep, wake up, take a shower, ride in the bus, you name it.

Eventually, my sister started to develop her own music taste that was not satisfied by a radio station. 

Naturally, I followed her exact footsteps in listening to those songs just as she did. This lasted up through high school, when my dad got remarried. At the time, the music that once filled the car transformed into NPR News Station podcasts and conversations about business. Not finding much of interest in these things, my sister and I put in our own headphones to listen to our own music. Yet, since my sister and I shared a room, we also shared music. I didn't have much of my own music taste, so I naturally gravitated towards her music taste which consisted of artists such as Kyle, D.R.A.M., George Watsky, and new takes on rap music. I think part of the reason I developed her music taste is because I hadn't yet discovered my own personal voice. That would change soon.

My sister eventually moved out for college and the music moved out too.

It was during this time that I began to develop my own music taste. As a part of my school's band, I would go on to create many of my favorite memories which compose a lot of those "big, shiny, and new books" I have today. Many of these moments helped me to discover myself, and along side it, my musical taste as well. Currently when I'm by myself, I listen to a lot of Jazz music in the car and everywhere. For me, It represents freedom, independence, and creativity- all very important aspects of my life which I discovered through being a part of my high school Jazz Band. I especially love incorporating 1940's Jazz, Swing, Funk, Fusion, and New-age Lofi-style Jazz into my playlists.

I listen to different music when I am around my friends and family.

When my best friend enters the car, we listen to a playlist of good-feeling songs that remind us of one another and represent our friendship and all the memories we share.

The same holds true for many of my family and friends.
When I'm in my sister's car, we listen to rap and I've come to grow an appreciation for the interesting bass and rhythm combinations. My cousin Otis and I share an understanding of one another through variations on blues and rock music with artists like Jimi Hendrix. My aunt and I have a playlist with Jazz artists like Erykah Badu and JJ Johnson. My cousin Nicole reminds me of any and every broadway musical that exists. My Jazz-band buddy Kenny from high school and I have a collaborative playlist with all sorts of Jazz musicians. My friend Joseph reminds me of acoustic music which exudes his personality and a particular song called "Rain Clouds" by Arcadian Wild. My friend Dalton reminds me of this french electronic song that he played once for me. My old trombone section leader Eric reminds me of D.R.A.M.'s "I like to Cha-Cha" and "Caroline" which were played when we recorded a music video for my Trigonometry class. My good friend Daniel who also plays Jazz music, reminds me of a song called "Happier" by Marshmallo and Bastille because of a particular memory we share. Kenzie, one of my closest childhood friends reminds me of Modest Mouse because of a concert we went to together. My cousin Debbie reminds me of Taylor Swift because it is what we listened to when we were in her car. My stepmom reminds me of Natalie King Cole and Metallica because of memories we've shared together. My mom reminds me of our song. My dad reminds me of our entire playlist. And the list goes on for most people I've met in my life.

Do you see the trend?

I feel I come to know and remember people better through music.

Not only do those people remind me of their respective songs; but, the songs remind me of those people. While at first glance, it may seem they are but simple songs we shared with one another; they have become a means for me to connect and remember people in my life no matter how much time or distance has passed between us. Music helps me to remember where I came from; and, it helps me to recognize where I am and who I am as I prepare to embark upon my future.

Today, I am a musician, a sister, a student, and a dreamer- and after looking through those old dusty books of memories- it appears that I always have been.