Ten years ago, I moved up to Portland, Oregon from Denton, Texas. That was the most adventurous year of my life in many ways, because I had traveled across the country to start a new life in the Pacific Northwest without knowing anyone there or even having visited before. Not only that, but I met my future wife that year, which is when life got really interesting. This is a song about the unusual circumstances that thrust us into a serious relationship just one month into dating.
I recorded this video for NPR's Tiny Desk Contest earlier this year. If you're a songwriter, I encourage you to participate next year, since there's a strong community emphasis that makes this contest accessible and fun. Plus, I appreciate that they don't require you to make a fancy video in order to showcase your talent.
Hence, this iPhone recording of my song, "Oceanside," which was a little coastal town where Kelly and I drove after she received her cancer diagnosis. As the song goes, we hid in an alcove in the side of a cliff and stared out at the monoliths in the water, contemplating what would happen to her (and us) when she had surgery.
This song also references the winter storm of 2008 when Portland experienced the most snowfall it had seen since 1969. Following her surgery the week of her thirtieth birthday, I stayed by Kelly's side while she recovered through that winter. Even though that was a challenging time for us, we now think back on it fondly, since we were building our relationship through this process of healing and taking care of each other.
I should add that the surgery was successful, and she was lucky to avoid having her whole kidney removed or even having to go through chemotherapy at all. In 2015, we went back to Oceanside (as we often do) and I proposed to her in that same alcove.
I've included the lyrics below. Enjoy. - Renée
"Oceanside" by Renée Muzquiz
Take me back,
Drive me to Oceanside
when I was scared
of how much you meant to me
Say the words,
I’ll call in sick to work,
so we can hide in an alcove
and stare at the monoliths
The way that the waves
climb up and slide down again…
I won’t let you slip out of my hands
Cold winter rain,
a cabin in Silverton
We bring what we need,
potatoes and microwave steak
Up all night
while you’re softly sleeping
Out on the trail,
I say I’m in love at the waterfall
You stop in your tracks
I won’t be a fool again
The rush of the water in my head
It was the last of your twenties
and my quarter-life crisis,
and we took refuge in Oregon
escaping Republicans
When you got sick,
I had to make a decision
We had just started dating,
I wasn’t sure I was ready
Snow-pocalypse,
Portlanders skiing to work
We bundle up
I fail to put chains on my tires
They admit
you back in the hospital
I lie on the cot,
and we watch as the evening snows us in
I crawl in your bed
The nurses are onto us…
I kiss you with all that I have
It was the last of your twenties
and my quarter-life crisis,
and we took refuge in Oregon,
escaping religion
When they said you had cancer,
there was really no question
We had just started dating
I just had to be ready
And sometimes, the internet
warns of earthquakes and tsunamis
that just might obliterate
Brookings to Astoria
And I knew I needed
the shape of your body
to keep us afloat on our backs
in the ocean