Attending the concert at Fenway Park in Boston last summer was supposed to be a purely exhilarating experience. Seeing Billy Joel live had been a dream of mine for years, a goal I added to my bucket list after successfully completing breast cancer treatment in the spring of 2014. I was determined to see Billy in concert, and I expected it to be amazing.
But what transpired? The concert was undoubtedly fantastic, yet it also brought forth unexpected emotions. We all know how music can transport us through time, and that evening, Billy’s voice took me back to my childhood—specifically, that Pepto-pink bedroom where I once heard my mother (who has been gone for nearly 13 years) sing “Just the Way You Are” off-key. It reminded me of a family life and a time that feels long gone.
However, it was Billy’s appearance that had the most profound effect on me. As video panels displayed images of his younger self, the contrast between that vibrant man and the balding, gray-goateed version on stage was shocking. I found myself wondering, “When did Billy age so much?” which inevitably led me to reflect, “When did I become older?”
Growing Up with Billy’s Music
Growing up in New York during the ’70s and ’80s, Billy’s music was the soundtrack of my youth. By the time I was ten, I could sing every word to “Scenes From an Italian Restaurant.” In my teenage years, after my sister Clara left for college, I’d spend hours lying on her bed, listening to “Vienna” from The Stranger on repeat. What was I yearning for as Billy crooned, “slow down, you crazy child, take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while”? I didn’t want to slow down; I wanted to rush into adulthood.
And it seems I got my wish. Aging feels like speeding down a highway, only to hit an unexpected stop—triggered by a song, a scent, or a familiar place—that jolts you into realizing, “YOU ARE HERE.” Now, at 46, I’m a mother of two. While I cherish life, I find myself encountering these abrupt stops more frequently, making me acutely aware of the years that have passed.
The Perplexity of Time
Time is a perplexing concept. When I try to articulate something insightful about it, my thoughts gravitate toward clichés and lyrics:
- In the blink of an eye.
- Time flies.
- Time keeps on slipping into the future.
- Time is on my side. (Perhaps Mick has a point; he still looks good at 71.)
What’s easier to grasp is the sentiment that arises during these moments, an emotional longing that took me a while to name. Eventually, I recognized it as nostalgia. Lately, this feeling has surfaced not only at Billy Joel concerts but also while driving along Commonwealth Avenue near Boston University, my alma mater. After countless drives down that street over the past twenty years, I typically observed the changes in storefronts. However, during my most recent trip, the significant change was not what I saw but who I had become—a motherless mom and cancer survivor, far removed from the carefree college student I once was.
This sensation struck again when I had lunch with a friend at a restaurant where I worked in my twenties. I felt a tiny seismic shift as I conversed with a young server, realizing he was not my peer but someone who could be my son.
The Origins of Nostalgia
The origins of the word nostalgia are intriguing. Coined by Johannes Hofer, it originated from the German term hemiweh, meaning home + woe. It’s also linked to the Greek nostos—“return home” + algos—“pain.” For centuries, it was primarily a military diagnosis, even cited as a cause of death for officers. Only in the 1920s did its meaning evolve to embody the modern notion of “wistful yearning for the past.”
Perhaps it’s the unexpected nature of nostalgia that makes it so challenging when it catches you off guard, as it did at the Billy Joel concert. When I actively engage with my past, though, the feeling shifts. Whether teaching my kids my favorite Run-D.M.C. songs or revisiting beloved childhood shows like Scooby-Doo and The Brady Bunch, I don’t feel homesick—rather, I feel connected to those memories.
Sure, I would love to return to that Pepto-pink room and see my mother again. However, I don’t wish to relive the complex and insecure days of my youth. At 46, I feel more secure in my identity and desires than ever before.
Perhaps this sense of contentment is Billy’s “Vienna”—right here, in this moment. For more engaging insights about parenting and life, check out our article on at-home insemination kits here. If you’re interested in learning more about pregnancy, visit Healthline for valuable information, and for a great baby wrap you can check this site.
Summary
This reflection on attending a Billy Joel concert highlights the unexpected feelings of nostalgia that can arise while confronting the passage of time. The contrasts between the artist’s younger self and his current appearance trigger deeper introspection about aging and personal growth. Ultimately, it emphasizes embracing the present and finding joy in the here and now.