I will always think of my daughter when I hear any Queen song. She’s been a fan since she was literally in utero kicking along to their beat. And I will also always think of a friend of mine who, knowing how much this band’s music soothed my kid especially as an infant, would sing “Don’t Stop Me Now” to her during a visit whenever she’d get fussy.

Bob Seger, Eric Clapton, and Aerosmith will always remind me of my father. Whenever their songs come on, I grin and say, “Hi, Dad.” It feels like he sends the song to me to remind me that he’s still with me somehow.

Although it is not our wedding song, Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” never ceases to make me smile and think of my husband. It was first popular about a decade ago when he and I first met and were dating long distance, and it would come on at least once every time I drove both to meet him for a date and on my way back home.

“Over the Rainbow” is difficult to listen to because my love for The Wizard of Oz was passed on to me from my mother, who I no longer speak to.

My brother is a Michael Jackson fanatic and I can’t bear to listen to a lot of the songs we grew up enjoying together. “Will You Be There” in particular is a song that’s always reminded me of our relationship, and it’s an all time favorite that I have to skip when it plays.

I hate the song “Cotton Eyed Joe” for reasons I can’t quite explain, and vetoed it being played at my wedding.

My ringtone is “Dirty Water” by The Standells, because even though I haven’t lived in MA since I was eleven years old, Boston, you’re my home.

“Les Miserables” is my absolute favorite musical, because I played Montparnasse in my high school’s production during my senior year — in a very dark time, that experience was a rare bright spot that I treasure dearly.

My daughter was about two years old before I finally found the strength to sing “Edelweiss” and “You Are My Sunshine” to her as lullabies, because those songs were so special to my grandmother and I, and even though my grandmother has been gone for 18 years, it still hurts too much. I think I’ve only ever sung them to her once or twice in my kid’s five plus years of life.

I will always find great joy in remembering my trip to Israel in 2007 whenever I hear “Wonderwall” by Oasis or “Save Tonight” by Eagle Eye Cherry. They call to mind a remarkable night out in the desert under the stars with strangers who became friends, and a feeling I’ve often tried to find words to describe, but seemingly can’t.

“Can’t Fight This Feeling” by REO Speedwagon was my parents’ wedding song, a reminder that, despite all that came later, they were happy together at one point.

“Dust in the Wind” was the first song I ever learned how to play on guitar. “Stand By Me” was a standout tune I learned and performed then too.

It took many years for me to be able to listen to a number of songs after a friend died in a car accident when I was in high school; one of those songs was “I’ll Be Watching You” by The Police.

Songs with the name Sue, Susie, or Susan in them were off-limits when my father left my mother for a woman with that name. No more “Crocodile Rock” by Elton John, no more “Susie Q” by Creedence Clearwater Revival. It still gives me a weird twinge when I hear those songs twenty-five years later.

Given my age, it might surprise people to learn that my absolute favorite song is “Up On the Roof” by The Drifters. It’s been my favorite for many years now. I thought a few years ago about how interesting it is that even in my choice of favorite song, the idea of removing myself from chaos and finding some peace and quiet was so appealing, decades before I realized and then finally managed it.

I am made of music, 36 years and counting. Every heartbeat follows the rhythm of my memories, connections, relationships, heartbreaks, victories, dreams, sorrows, joys. I am the latest track in an infinite playlist that stretches across generations behind me and will play on ahead of me after I’m gone.

We are all heartsong.