E30: The Soundtrack of Your Life

When writing a eulogy feels impossible, the way in isn't through the grief—it's through a song. That's what I discovered after losing my mom fifteen months after my memoir, "Girl in the Spotlight" was published, a book in which our mother-daughter story was woven all the way through. I'm sharing her eulogy today because music does something that even a writer reaches for when words aren't enough, and I want to show you how it can help you connect to your own story too.

Who this is for: You don't need to know my mom or read my book to feel this one. You just need to have songs—the ones that keep you connected to your own story.

What We Talk About In This Episode:

• Why good stories start and end with the same image — and how a Rod Stewart song became both the opening and the closing of a whole relationship
• What it looks like to find your way into a piece of writing when the subject feels impossible to hold
• A eulogy read aloud—a love letter to a woman who made every place feel like home and danced to beach music anywhere she stood
• How music bypasses the places where words get stuck and what that means for the stories we tell
• The moment I realized I wasn't just writing about my mom, I was living out the lyrics in real time
• What the act of searching for the story actually reveals about storytelling itself
• Three reflection questions to help you find your own way in to the piece of writing, the hard conversation, or the story you've been carrying
• The playlist I made while writing Girl in the Spotlight and where to find it

Songs from this episode:

You're in My Heart — Rod Stewart 

Me and Bobby McGee — Janis Joplin 

PYT (Pretty Young Thing) — Michael Jackson 

Silver Springs — Fleetwood Mac 

I Love Beach Music — The Embers 

Carolina Girls — General Johnson 

Electric Slide — Marcia Griffiths 

Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae) — Silentó 

Ain't No Mountain High Enough — Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell 

Three Little Birds — Bob Marley 

You Are My Sunshine — traditional 

Everything I Do (I Do It For You) — Bryan Adams 

Calling All Angels — Train 

Forever Young — Rod Stewart

Fight Song — Rachel Platten 

Angel — Sarah McLachlan

Mentioned in this episode: 

E27: Girl in the Spotlight Is Now an Audiobook (And Why the Story Still Matters)

Transcript

Hey, it's Angie and welcome to More Like You. Three years ago this week, I sent my mom the copy of my manuscript, Girl in the Spotlight, to read. I was very nervous about sharing the story with her six months before it was published.

As I mentioned a few episodes ago, episode 27, our mother daughter story is woven all throughout that memoir. And so of course I wanted her to read it before it was published.

She ended up reading it in one sitting and we spent the next couple of days on the phone. And I was surprised by her response because I thought I would be spending time maybe defending my position or explaining my perspective or having her challenge my point of view. But that's not what happened. Instead,

She looked through photo albums, she went through old file boxes and found old resumes and she was just doing what she could to confirm my timeline.

was just double checking to make sure that I had my own timeline straight, that I had the factual things that happened in the story straight in terms of dates and times and the ages that I was. And the other thing that surprised me is that she really got it. She understood how I was going back and forth in time and how I was using stories from the past in my...

childhood to inform things that were happening in my young adult and young professional life, especially as I started to decide what I wanted to do for a living. And when I arrived at a crossroads in my career, I really needed these stories from childhood to provide context to help the reader understand and to even help me understand.

how I had arrived at such a crossroads, how I had become so uncertain on this path that I was on when I had once been so sure.

So earlier today, I opened up my text messages and found the thread with my mom and went back to that conversation, times when we were texting and on the phone. And one of the things she said about the book was that it was a beautiful story of love, dreams, and heartbreak.

I had no idea that 15 months later I would be writing her eulogy. I had just written a whole book about our mother daughter relationship. It was a major theme in the book. And yet this piece of writing, writing her eulogy felt impossible.

But then my friend Meg reminded me that good stories typically start with an image and end with that same image.

and immediately I had found my way in. That image was a song. And then suddenly the eulogy practically wrote itself.

I always knew that I would share her eulogy eventually. And now with the audio book for Girl in the Spotlight coming out, the timing felt right.

So many of us can identify with and relate to the fact that music helps us feel connected to memories and our experiences. even though this was a very personal story, a very unique life, I feel like some of her challenges and experiences and the struggles and the pain and the heartbreak and the beauty and the joy and the essence of her.

in many ways, she's like a lot of women out there.

I am a memoir writer because I believe that writing and sharing our stories is how we make sense of our lives. But sometimes it can feel impossible to do.

I'm sharing my mom's eulogy today to show you that it doesn't have to be. you just have to find your way in.

Okay, so here we go.

of my earliest and most vivid memories of my mom was Valentine's Day. It was 1977. I was three years old. I woke up that morning and she led me to the gifts that she'd set out on display. And I remember picking up a 45 record. Do you know what that says? She asked, pointing to the words on the label. it says you're in my heart.

That iconic song by Rod Stewart had become our anthem, writing in her red chevette. I'd sing the words at the top of my lungs. You're in my heart. You're in my soul. You'll be my breath should I grow old.

You are my lover. You're my best friend. You're in my soul. I didn't know what a lover was. I just knew that I loved her.

That was the year she became a single mom. It was a rough time, a traumatic time in our lives, especially hers. It's important to note that mom was also young. I was three years old and she was just 21. And yet she was my first safe place.

every place we ever lived, whether an apartment, a townhouse, a trailer, feel like home.

I was making dinner last week and turned on Fleetwood Mac's greatest hits because those songs remind me of her. There are so many good ones. Silver Springs was her favorite. And that's when I realized that these songs make up the soundtrack of her life.

That playlist would also include Me and Bobby McGee by Janis Joplin. I can just picture her as a teenager singing the raspy lyrics out loud with friends at parties, in cars, and in fields. That song sounds like freedom to me. Friends who knew her growing up speak of her kindness, her bright smile, and her beauty.

She was intelligent and magnetic. She was a PYT, a pretty young thing. She loved that song too.

about sharing books and recipes with my mom.

Paige, another dear childhood friend of mine, affectionately called her Miss Debbie, and it stuck.

My friends from college talk about her authentic acceptance. If you were a part of my world and my boyfriend turned husband Shawn's world, you were a part of hers. She was always down for a good time and meaningful conversation. Mom loved to dance. She especially loved dancing to beach music. There's an actual song called I Love Beach Music. My girl, Carolina girls, Miss Grace, any song would do.

She'd stop and grab your hand and do the Carolina shag anywhere. The living room, the kitchen, the backyard, and many wedding receptions.

Speaking of wedding receptions, our mother-daughter dance at my wedding was to the electric slide.

Later, her grandchildren inspired her to learn how to whip, nae nae and do the stanky leg. her best friend Ansie said that on one of their girls' trips, they danced to that song so many times, they almost peed their pants laughing until they cried. Ansie also told me how they loved the movie Beaches and that they were the wind beneath each other's wings.

Her grandchildren, Dillon Blake, and Cate are our three little birds. They blessed our lives singing sweet songs of melodies pure and true.

They are a comforting and joyful reminder. Don't worry about a thing because every little thing is gonna be all

In the final hours before mom passed, we were all close, sitting at our bedside. It was a devastating and beautiful scene. I heard Dillon humming a quiet tune. I listened for a moment and recognized it was a song mom sang to him many times when he was young.

You're my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.

On her Facebook page, Mom described herself as a retired paralegal, wife, mom, and Mimi, who was hopelessly devoted to her family.

Mom's health took a severe downturn last November, and over the last eight months, I witnessed how hopelessly devoted her husband, my stepdad Patrick, was to her.

He fought hard for her, living out the vows in sickness and in health, and the lyrics to the song they danced to at their wedding. Everything I do, I do it for you.

Pat and I tried so hard to keep her here, and mom tried so hard to stay. Throughout her whole life, despite her struggles, she tried so hard.

We're grateful that mom got to spend her last two months at home, the only place she wanted to be. She rallied and went to Dillon's high school graduation. It was a good day, a perfect day, and for a moment, time stood still.

Many years ago, mom called me to tell me about a song she heard on the radio, Calling All Angels by Train. It really moved her. Just listen to the lyrics, she said.

I need a sign to let me know you're here. I need to know that things are going to look up. Cause I feel as drowning in a sea spilled from a cup.

I'm calling all angels.

I won't give up if you don't give up.

In her final days, she'd pray out loud, praying to God, not understanding why she was in so much pain.

questioning how long she could continue to endure

We never gave up. Mom didn't give up. Her physical body gave out. Mom stayed on this side of heaven as long as she could. She just celebrated her 68th birthday. She is now forever young. And now we are left with her energy and spirit, the true essence of her, so full of love, beauty, vibrancy.

and free from pain.

I knew my mom well, but over the past eight months, I began to understand her more deeply.

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the song Ain't No Mountain High Enough was more than a feel-good mother-daughter bonding song.

I got to witness myself in real time living out the lyrics. If you're ever in trouble, I'll be there on the

And now it's her message to us, the ones who will miss her the most.

If you need me, call me. No matter where you are, no matter how far. Just call my name. I'll be there in a hurry. You don't have to worry.

has shown up for me several times since she passed, times when I wasn't even looking for a sign. She showed up in ways that I simply can't dismiss as a coincidence. Over the past few weeks, another one of her favorite songs keeps playing in my head, Rachel Platten's Fight Song. Like a small boat on the ocean, sending big waves into motion.

Mom only had one match, but she made an explosion.

In her final hour, as we said our goodbyes, I reminded mom that I was her legacy and her grandchildren were her legacy.

And I whispered the words of our anthem, that iconic Rod Stewart song, into her ear. You're in my heart, you're in my soul. My love for you is immeasurable.

My respect for you, immense.

You're ageless, timeless, lace and fineness, you're beauty and elegance.

soundtrack of my mom's life has a bonus track reserved for such a time as this. The first time she heard it, she said, I want you to play this at my funeral. It's Angel by Sarah McLachlan. Please take this time to reflect on the life of the woman we called mom, Mimi, Debra and Miss Debbie.

So again, one of the reasons that I wanted to share this with you, it's because the act of searching for the story actually revealed the story.

The writing and the telling of the story helped lead me to new understanding. And it also helped begin to create a bridge through my grief to the ongoing work of healing.

that's what storytelling does. It shows you what's there. It helps you clarify what you already know.

are a few questions I'll leave you with today. You can pause and write them down if you want. What are your songs? What's the image that's your way in? What would it look like to start and end with the same image and see how that image changed from the beginning of the story to the end?

This week in my Hello Friday newsletter, I am sharing another playlist. It is the playlist that I made while I was writing my memoir, Girl in the Spotlight. so imagine if the book ever became a movie. This would be the soundtrack for the book. It was great fun creating this playlist. I listen to it often.

It keeps me connected to my own story. And I'm sharing that playlist on my weekly newsletter, Hello Friday, this week. So if you're not already signed up for Hello Friday, go to angiemizzell.substack.com and sign up for my weekly newsletter. It's free to your inbox every week. Thank you for listening to More Like You. I'm Angie Mizell and I'll see you here next week.