My musical relationship with my parents has historically been pretty great actually. I first got into "good music" aged about 15 by raiding my dad's old vinyls and the family CDs over a few afternoons and digging out anything that looked interesting. The records that stuck at the time were Kind of Blue, Pink Moon, Solid Air, After The Goldrush and Transformer. Shortly after that, my father responded to my new interest by buying me Sgt. Peppers, The Last Waltz and a Charlie Parker best of, and that's pretty much the root of my whole music obsession. Also, when I quickly found my way to more left-field stuff, it was dad who told me to buy some Harry Partch, which is totally cool.
After my father died when I was 16 I developed quite a strong musical connection with my mother, which in retrospect I think was partially her way of staying close to me at that time. Since then though I've actually got her into a lot of good stuff I think, expanding on her natural tastes for jazz and blues, and we agree on a lot, even if she doesn't like anything TOO noisy/rock based and can't abide hip-hop at all (or really anything too "electronic"). Whenever we do disagree though I'm jsut glad to have a mother who will come down to the Stone with me if we're visiting famil in New York and sincerely love the experience.
So pretty good, yeah.
The toothaches got worse, she dreamed of disembodied voices from whose malignance there was no appeal, the soft dusk of mirrors out of which something was about to walk, and empty rooms that waited for her. Your gynaecologist has no test for what she was pregnant with.