Have you ever heard a song that reminds you of something that you’ve never experienced before? A song that makes your thoughts travel through someone else’s past? Even though it’s hard to explain such an odd feeling, this is exactly how I feel whenever I listen to the former and extraordinary French singer, Charles Aznavour. It’s as if his songs would take me straight away to my Dad’s life, in his 20’s, when he was making the most of his years in Paris.

Happiness and sadness sit in my stomach as my Dad's absence hurts me so much; at the same time, these bittersweet memories come to mind in an attempt to connect me with our love, care, trust and family history. I know that nobody loved me more, in this world, than my Dad. He devoted his entire life to our family and I know that I had always been his little girl... Until the day he passed away, he would look at me with the most tender eyes one can ever look at his own child.

How can I relate to his past without ever having been there? Is our connection so strong to the point that his imprint left in me still intertwines my own self and heart with the experiences he once had? Or is it just me trying to grasp something that would, perhaps, rejoin our beings again?

Years after my Dad departed, I met Charles Aznavour in São Paulo, Brazil, during a bella serata at the iconic Fasano Hotel. Monsieur Aznavour was of a certain age and coincidently that was his last year with us. I tried to express admiration and likewise gratitude for his work being so meaningful to us, as if his songs were an illusionary liaison between father and daughter. Gosh, I wish I could tell Dad about that surprising, never imagined encounter! My father was one of the hugest fans of Aznavour by the way.

I guess that regardless of one's connection with music, it can be timeless and travels not only through the course of humanity's life but also powerfully transports us back in time: yours, mine, anyone’s.