Mom was
involved in a horrible head-on collision on July 18,2001. The
photographs seen above and below were taken at the scene by a
paramedic who was one of the first to arrive. The poem was written
the moment I saw the photos. They were graciously shared with
our family by an angel named Chamblee. Days after the awful event,
she recounted to my sister an amazing story:
It seems
that Mom was still alive, although mumbling incoherently, when
the paramedic came to her side. Her body was very badly hurt and
it looked as if she was trapped in the vehicle. Suddenly, though,
Mom sat straight up, removed herself from the seatbelt, raised
both arms as if in prayer and smiled a smile brighter than Chamblee
had ever seen. "Smiled as if she had just won a million dollars"
was how she described it. Seconds later, the arms dropped and
Mom was gone.
My mother
was a deeply devout Catholic woman who gave her life for others.
She distributed Holy Communion to the homebound, helped run Meals
on Wheels, was an active member of the bell choir, Woman's Guild,
volunteered often at the local schools, and on and on. Her life
revolved around her faith and enhancing the lives of others.
Her unshakable
faith was always a bit confusing and intimidating to me, but it
did comfort me often when I needed her counsel. More than any
person I've known, she seemed to know and understand God and was
absolutely convinced of His presence in all of our lives. I was
never so convinced......until now. Her smile meant something and
she was giving us hope and counsel even in her most agonizing
moments.
I am not
a particularly religious man.....much to Mom's chagrin. I am one
of those into whom our Creator has instilled a cynical, questioning,
wordly, logical, doubting mind. It's no coincidence that Mom and
Dad named me Thomas:-) I'm the logical man of whom Chesterton
speaks. I was a Stoic when Stoic wasn't cool. Even my musical
studies and teachings have centered strongly on matters of technique,
method, and efficiency. We so easily and so often forget that
music touches our soul in a very profound and very real way. We
forget, too, that we are blessed to make music.
I was
not at her side to see Mom's knowing smile, but I'd seen it before.
I recall seeing it when she heard me play....whether in front
of the band, or with the orchestra, or playing "oom-pahs"
with my quartet just days before her death.
Yes, I
know the smile. It's one I see every day in my mind. And it's
one to which I will devote my days.
I don't
ever wish, and I hope that you don't either, to "count score"
at a performance....or measure one performance against another,
or get muddled in a logical, well-conceived plan for achieveing
an indeterminate, elusive, enigmatic goal. I don't ever aspire
to please myself with my music. Or worse, to feel like an end
has been reached and there's nothing more ahead. I only wish to
hear music from those with a smile on their face. I want to hear
phrases that speak volumes. I want to hear daring chances taken,
if not always achieved. I want to hear scores of wrong notes erupting
like fiery lava from human beings in a fit of sensory awareness.....of
human awareness. I want to feel, smell, and taste the passion
on the breath and see the drips from the brow and bell.
I want
to see mothers in the crowd with knowing smiles..........
As you
peruse this site and discover tools to help make you a better
musician, don't forget WHY you make music. Don't forget WHY you
practice and WHY we work so damned hard. Perhaps more than any
other human endeavor, it can put us in close contact with universal
truth, pure love, human essence, and yes..... God.
Music
is a bridge to a world that exists simultaneously with, yet apart
from, our own. It's a powerful, spiritual, humble, humanizing,
deifying, tumultuous world into which we have been given a glimpse,
and to which we have been allowed access, through music.
It can
put a knowing smile on the face. ...
And what's
on the face is a mere shadow of what's in the heart :-)
Go practice...........and
may God bless us all.
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