❌Monthly Song Challenge: Archived🎵

Day 24: A song you love to sing along with uncensored

I had to think about this for a bit. I'm always going to self-censor a particular word so that ruled out quite a few songs that I otherwise love to curse along with despite being unable to sing or rap. I've decided on Kim Petras, she has some delightfully filthy songs and I sing along with all of them 😂
After that song, I can’t think of any other GOAT for anything else that matters any more
 
Day 24: A song you love to sing along with uncensored

Early career Eminem hit right in my college years, and it was only on re-listen that I realized how fucking often he used a slur starting with 'F' in songs that I otherwise enjoy. Hence, censoring. But I can still rip about 90% of this off and it's just fun.

 
Day 24: A song you love to sing along with uncensored

Early career Eminem hit right in my college years, and it was only on re-listen that I realized how fucking often he used a slur starting with 'F' in songs that I otherwise enjoy. Hence, censoring. But I can still rip about 90% of this off and it's just fun.

I’m a great rapper Lusty
 
Day 25: A song for someone you miss

I should probably just slap a song in like I usually do and skip story time. But,... Well, I can't.

You see, when my wife died, she left me to watch over a dog and three surviving cats.

The last of them died two weeks ago.

I could link a lot of songs for this prompt.

But, none seem so appropriate as the one my late wife requested to be played at her wake.

 
Day 25: A song for someone you miss
No bonus point today.
It is common knowledge my first major loss happened in 2011 when I lost my dad.
For all the disfunction, for all the hurt, it took years for me to understand why he was the way he was.
Since then, I had to deal with my emotional well-being.
I had to do this while trying to become a better father for my kids and a better husband for the one I married.
It's not been the best. Lots of heartache. Lots of hurt.
But it is better than it was.
There are two possible songs I could play.
Both deal with the detachment I felt when I made the decision to choose my wife over him.
I am choosing today to go for the uplifting rather than the condemnation.
This was the song that played a month after his passing while I was driving.
In his weird way, I could feel he was telling me it was okay and that he understood.

 
Day 25: A song for someone you miss

This was released in 2002, the year I first ‘met’ her. While things have waxed and waned over the more than 2 decades since, things pick right back up each time we get together.

Wow, I forgot about them..
 
Day 25: A song for someone you miss
A month or so ago I was having a really hard time. I was feeling isolated, anxious, sad. Things in my life were triggering painful memories of experiences from my childhood. I confided in a friend here on lit and they were so kind and affirming. They sent me this song, unsure if it would resonate with me. When I listened, it brought me to tears because it was exactly how I was feeling.
“Like I never got out of the water”
I’m grateful for the time I had with this friendship, even if they aren’t around anymore 💛

Joy Oladokun - Taking Things for Granted

 
Day 25: A song for someone you miss
My grandfather passed away at the turn of the century. After my dad took off when I was young, Granpa stepped up. Anything positive, anything of grace I leaned about being a man and a gentleman, I learned from my grandfather.

My grandfather was a strong, tough man. He worked the railroads, and would jump off, do his job, then run back and jump back onto the moving train, every day until he retired. Not powerfully built in the classic sense, he was rangy, and had that old man strength. During the Depression, he was a middle-weight boxer with a 27-2 amateur record, and both of the two losses were considered travesties of justice by the local paper. I have all his clippings, saved in a special scrapbook by my Granma. This was back in a day when the difference between amateur and pro boxing was slight -- light gloves, no head guards, heavy betting. He fought twice as a professional, and won both, as "Johnny Valentine." Not even close to his name. But Portland back then was very mobbed up, and he didn't want to get into that end of things.

He became my coach. I boxed for about six years. Small gym off of Williams. It had changed since he had used it, and we were the only white faces in there, but they all respected him. When he started teaching me, the first rule was that violence started and ended in the ring. If a man couldn't control his anger, or his hands, he had no place learning how to do it better. I tried to live that out. This was a man who could, and had, knocked out another human being with one punch. I never saw him violent, ever. He got mad, but he kept in under control. I remember he and my father getting into it on how Dad was treating me one day. Dad was a Marine, 6'4 and big, probably six inches and 40 pounds on Granpa, and had, shall we say, less a problem with violence. Granpa stood up, looked him in the eye, and said maybe five words and Ted backed the fuck off. Hard.

He was sweet, loving, and a fucking good person. At the end, he had Alzheimer, and it was rough. But the night he passed, he was lucid, and told me he loved me. It was the last thing I heard from him, and it was perfect. He loved me every day until the day he died.

I miss him. He loved Emmylou, played her records all the time.

"The Boxer," Emmylou Harris. (+1)


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He was sweet, loving, and a fucking good person. At the end, he had Alzheimer, and it was rough. But the night he passed, he was lucid, and told me he loved me. It was the last thing I heard from him, and it was perfect. He loved me every day until the day he died.
This is beautiful 💛 a perfect final memory
For my mom

This song 😭💜
 
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