10/16/25

And so this week’s moment of happiness despite the news.

Last Friday, when I turned on my computer in the morning, the first headline I was hit with was the death of John Lodge, bassist and singer for the group The Moody Blues. The Moody Blues were made up of five band members (at least the ones I count): Justin Hayward, John Lodge, Ray Thomas, Graeme Edge, and Michael Pinder. With John Lodge’s passing, there is only one member left – Justin Hayward.

I spent a large part of Friday and Saturday, wondering what that must be like for him. To be the last one standing. I imagine it feels much like I do, late at night, after I turn the lights out in the condo and stand for a moment, still so newly alone in my home.

I fell head over heels with the Moody Blues when I was twelve years old, the moment I heard the song “Nights In White Satin” playing over a car radio. I don’t remember whose car I was in or why, but I remember that music just cloaking me. It wasn’t just the melody and the harmony…it was the words, their particular rhythm, and the meaning. Even then, I loved music that told a story – no surprise there.

From that point on, I was a true Moody fan. I wrote fan fiction about them, in which I incorporated myself into their lives, creating a family of sorts, because of course, in the story, we all lived in a great old house outside of London. Of course, we all owned horses. Of course, the house was filled with music. And of course, I was the light of their lives. In reality, they were a very large light in mine.

I spent hours in my room, sitting in the dark on the floor directly in front of the speakers of my little stereo, singing with my eyes closed, and transported into the worlds they talked about in their songs and the world I talked about in my mind.

As an adult, I don’t know how many times I saw them perform. When my big kids were 13, 11, and 10, the Moody Blues performed at Summerfest (1997) and the whole family went. Just this last Friday, when Lodge’s death was announced, my oldest son, 41 now, came on the family Instagram chat and said, “Oh, no, Mom. John Lodge died.” He then went on to say that he remembered that I had to drag them to the concert, but he ended up enjoying it.

Just the fact that he remembered what the Moody Blues mean to me, and came on specifically to commiserate with me, meant a lot. That he remembered the concert – even better.

Saturday night, I went with my youngest son and youngest daughter to a candlelight concert. It featured the music of Coldplay and Imagine Dragons, bands that I also love, and was held in Madison, Wisconsin. All the way there and all the way home, I played Moody Blues music, not from the car radio, but through Spotify through my speakers, in this new modern way, donchaknow.

But at the concert, I let myself sink into the candlelight. What a different feeling than a dark concert hall! It was soft and the flickering provided the room’s slowed heartbeat. The music was performed by a string quartet (two violins, a viola, and a cello) and it was so amazing to hear that familiar music in such a different way. I sank into it too.

When the quartet prepared to play Coldplay’s song, “Fix You”, a song I’ve played innumerable times since Michael died, one of the musicians talked about how singer Chris Martin wrote the song for his then-wife, Gwynth Paltrow, after the death of her father. The song is about guiding someone through the dark times. In my head, I heard the words as the song wasn’t played with voices, but with instruments. And those instruments sang with emotion. When I heard – and felt – the words, “Lights will guide you home,” I lost it in a silent way. Not sobbing. But impossible to stop tears flowing freely down my face. I didn’t want to draw attention by repeatedly wiping my eyes, so I just let the tears fall.

Lights will guide you home. What had I just said, and then written, two days before? On my wedding anniversary? That the only thing I wanted to honor that day was to see Michael come through my door, with the flowers he’d given me for anniversaries 1 – 24. To see him come home.

Lights will guide you home. And there I was, in the softest of light, and with a song meant to guide someone through dark times playing all around me, and in me, as I heard the words in my head.

On the way to and from the concert, the Moody Blues singing, bringing their familiarity and comfort to me, that had soothed me for so many years, starting when I was twelve.

I didn’t just sink in that candlelit concert hall. I relaxed. I let go.

I was so grateful.

I have, packed away in a closet, my hand-written fan fiction of my imagined life with the Moody Blues. I may have to revisit them.

Music soothes and it uplifts. This is a rambling Moment, as I’m trying hard to put into words just how that moment, and that song, and the music that surrounded me that whole day, made me feel. But I think the best way is just to show you.

Pick out your favorite song, the one that just makes you let go of the clench you didn’t even know you were holding. Play it in a dark room, maybe with a candle or two. And then just listen.

And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.

To listen to Coldplay’s song, Fix You, go to: