A couple of weeks ago I went to a Memorial Service. It was for a coworker's sister. I never knew her and the coworker and I aren't very close. But he's a nice guy and we talk often for work. We got an email notice about the service and Sheena, Lovey and I figured we should go. To give support and pay our respects. It's one of those things that takes hardly any effort or time and seems so meaningful. So, we went.
I've been blessed as I haven't been to many memorial services or funerals in my life. I just haven't lost that many people. Which is good. Because living is better than dying. But it's also good, as I don't do such events well. I get too emotional, I think. I feel like I should have better control of myself. And that I should be more supportive and attentive. It seems like a time to gather to support each other and remember the person you all just lost. But mostly I just cry and wish for the person back. Which I can easily do in my room without bothering anyone else.
I thought I could handle this recent service as I was not so closely touched by this person. I was barely touched at all by her. I just knew her brother and heard about her from him after her death. And I did fine at the service, really. But it affected me more than I thought it would.
The speeches were nice, the service was lovely. And it was both sad and heartening. I'd recently learned how much she meant to her brother. And it seemed like she was an amazing person. So it was hard to think about how all of these people were now mourning her. But there was definitely a sense throughout that she touched a lot of lives and did a lot of wonderful things and that most of these people were better for having her be a part of them. It was so good to feel that.
But then the music made it personal. Lovey was sitting/standing next to me and lent her lovely voice to the hymns. And made them so much more than the dirge like tunes I remembered from my time in the Presbyterian Church. And it made me smile and made me a little emotional to hear her. But mostly the music filled me with memories. And made me long for my family and my grandparents. I remembered sitting in Church with my grandfather. Singing hymns with the family. I remembered songs my grandmother would sing to me. And I remembered all their memorial services. And I cried. Like I try so hard not to do.
Initially I was angry with myself. For making someone else's service about me. But then I realized that was silly. It's all part of the same thing. I was mourning my loved ones again and at the same time learning about someone else and at the same time supporting and feeling for a really nice person I am lucky enough to know. And doing all that together is a fine thing. And so I went with it.
At one point they played a song. I'm not sure which one. A piece by Handel I think. And it made me think of my mother and just broke my heart a little. And I'm not really sure why. It reminded me of a part of a book I like by an author I love. Towards the end of the book a grandmother spends some time each day playing with her young grandson. They don't do much. Just the kind of playtime you have with babies. But she would play music during their time together. Particularly one piece. And not too long after these play dates start, the grandmother dies. And the grandson grows up never really knowing her. Later, at the end of the book, he's at an event of some kind. A service or wedding or something. And that one particular song plays. And he just starts crying. He just feels something in him and he cries because of it. And I loved that. The idea that he did somehow know his grandmother, not in any conscious way. But somehow he was connected to her.
I like to think of connections like that. I can't describe them, even to myself. But I can feel them. And I like that they're there. I like that I can see things or hear things or sense things and for no explicable reason I suddenly think of someone I love. Or feel something emotional and strong and alive. And I like that Music does that for me more than anything else.
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