September 20, 2013

Continuing our birthday month celebration for Barry Gibb……

As the UK awaits Barry’s concerts, this week’s story comes from a woman whose devotion to Barry has nothing to do with seeing him perform and everything to do with her emotional connection to his voice.

Cheryl

Brooklyn

When my husband and I split up, I rented a cottage on the coast of Maine and went away for six months of silence. I had been smart enough to have saved my money since I was a college girl, and I took those savings and used them to give myself the time I needed to work through my problems. My only company was my Bee Gee music, which I played every day. I’d asked my friends and family to give me some time alone. They weren’t happy about it, but they did respect my wishes, at least for a little while. Living in New York City for most of my life and running myself ragged for ten years in a challenging marriage, I was drained and exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I’d seen these little cottages in New England magazines and called a realtor who found me a tiny place out in the country near the sea, the kind of cottage you’d see in an old black and white film about Ireland. I’d been a Barry Gibb lover almost all of my life, and I started way back with the early music from 1967 (the best) and let Barry sing me to sleep and sing me through the bad days. Every day he serenaded me, and I’d take long walks and cry, but I’d listen to Barry and feel hopeful. I loved that I could relate to him because he wasn’t arrogant or flashy. He seemed like a friend when I was a teen, and I still felt the same way. I thought that Barry would like that simple cottage. That place and his music helped me to get better. Some days I thought of all the problems Barry had to deal with. His life wasn’t all roses and lollipops. I knew he was in pain sometimes when he was on stage, and he had many family responsibilities that weighed on his shoulders. There’s always more than meets the eye going on behind that gorgeous man exterior. He was and always will be my favorite singer and songwriter. Some songs seem so incredibly simple and yet so perfect. Songs like “First of May” and “Morning of My Life” leave me shaking my head. I think Barry’s brain should be studied by scientists or maybe neurologists who can take some scans and figure out where the hell that music comes from….no kidding. How can one man write so many different types of songs that move me, heart and soul? As most Bee Gee fans know, Barry’s music does help heal, and the sound of Barry singing was comforting every day. That voice is the voice I love. Eventually, I went back to New York, but I didn’t stay there. I moved to Maine and awaited the next Barry Gibb song and the next album. I remember hearing “I Could Not Love You More” for the first time, and I knew he’d never lose his touch. What an amazing piece of music. Again he touched my heart. He is always there for me. Anyone who has grown up with the Bee Gees or has followed Barry’s life, knows exactly what I feel for him. It’s hard to explain, but I am grateful for all the years he has given me support through his sensitive melodies and perfect lyrics. Love to you, Barry, and thank you.