The Awakening of the Musician in Me

I've been working all weekend. I have a report that goes to a City Council in a few weeks and it's turned out to be more work assembling all the data from the team than I thought. And I have to put a draft in front of the team this week for their final review before sending it to the Client.

It's a lot of copying and pasting and formatting of the data. It's monotonous but it's a project where I have quite a bit of responsibility. I like a challenge and this project has definitely stretched me and taught me quite a bit. An opportunity that has only come about because of the faith some of my current and past colleagues have placed in me. And although the Project Manager relies on me heavily and admitted in my annual review that I know the project better than he does and have been an integral part of the team, I am away from my boys. And I don't like that.

The weekend before Andrew died I worked most of that weekend on this project. Next Friday is the 5 month anniversary of his death. (It's also Mark's birthday.) He's almost been gone as long as he was with us here in this life. And that makes me sad. I remember kicking myself when he died that I had worked so much that week because . . .

I regret that I didn't get to spend more time with him. If I had known ........... I would have taken the week off from work and held him the whole time. I would have stayed at the hospital every minute. I would have done it differently .............................. I would have taken more pictures. I would have gotten another family picture of us. We only have 1 with the 5 of us.

I wouldn't have let him go..........................................


And suddenly, in the midst of the swirl, I am aware that I miss writing. I miss making music. I miss being able to dance. I miss a lot of things. And I can't help but smile as I think of these things and get a bit sentimental.


I have a dear friend of mine who seems to see such good in me whether I am feeling good about myself or not. Is always very encouraging regardless of my disposition. Optimistic. Positive Always good to talk to. Everyone should have someone like this in their life. This is an individual I think very highly of. Someone who replied to my question, "you know what I thought of that I could do to make a difference in the world?", that I was going to start making music. The statement, probably meant to be a bit sarcastic, caught me off guard but it touched me. I don't think many know or notice that music is so strong in me. Especially not now with what I do.

Why does this person come to mind right now? Well, one way I keep myself on task during such repetitive work is to watch documentaries, movies, TV shows on the Internet or whatever. I've learned about the Kennedy's, earthquakes, WWII, Dolly Madison, the Silver Pharaoh, etc. They mostly go in the background as I work and keep my mind from wandering. (Some may not believe it but it works when I'm doing housework as well.) Otherwise I find that my mind gets too pensive and wanders off on its own rabbit trails and then I don't get much done.

So I have had a movie on about a young man who heard music in nature and everyday life, and where it lived in him and was real. He was a composer and musician. Could read music and play by ear. He played Debussy's "Clair de Lune", which I absolutely love, and I had to stop working for a minute to revel in the tones and picture the water. The calm and beauty of a serene moment on a beautiful day. It is a goal of mine to learn how to play it someday. I love Debussy.

And for the first time in a long time, I longed to make music again as he dreamed of doing for the rest of his life. But he had few opportunities and it drove him nuts. A drive I vaguely remember and have buried within myself because I do not have the means to handle the flood it would unleash within me. I have no way to let it out.

Well, the main character had a friend who came along side him and encouraged him in his gift. Helped him to go after it. So naturally I thought of my friend who I think may understand a little bit of how I love music and its drive within me. .....................................

Then it reminds me of how I miss playing. Miss working at it. Miss being part of the music as it's being formed. Being in the midst of the sound as it bends and moves and goes forth. Feeling the music and its emotions and the story it tells. Oh the excitement and the thrill of performing. Working so hard and then the release in the performance. Sharing it with others. Oh how glorious and fun!

And oh my gosh I have gotten lost. Hold K, now is not the time for that. That is for another season of life.

See how I just shift moods? Directions? Lines of thought? I can meet a friend I cherish for coffee feeling just fine and then can shift to being sad and low ten minutes later. Will not even be thinking about Andrew or the grief and concentrating fine and then move into a period of a few hours where I am fuzzy in the head. Like suddenly arriving into a foggy patch on the ocean of life.

As usual, my thoughts turn another direction. A place they frequently go - to Andrew.

Andrew never heard me play.

He heard me sing.

He saw me being silly and goofy.
He even saw me dance.
We shared so much together he and I in his short little life. Because I could read it in his little eyes. A language we spoke only to each other it seems.
But he never heard me play.

There were so many things I told him about or sang to him or read to him but I never played for him. I talked to him about my music. My dreams that seem to have come from a past life now. But I never really got my flute out and played for him.

I am saddened as I think ahead in life on the things that I will miss out on because he is not a part of our family in this life any longer. And milestones I'll miss about his life. But to think about not sharing something that is so intense for me and so personal and something that is so important to me ...............

He never heard me play.

He never heard me play.


Someday, I'll have to play for him.


So Many Things
by kk
I shared so many things with you
My loves, my hopes, my joys.
I told so many things to you
My faith, my life, my loves.
I gave so many things to you
My strength, my love, my all.
And now you're gone, apart from me
My flesh, my blood, my child.
I'll carry so many things of you
My boy, my joy, my son.