These Days

"One of these days the ground will drop out from beneath your feet

One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat"

The radio is playing all of David's songs this morning as I try to bake cupcakes and make pico de gallo to take to my son's barbecue this afternoon.

"One of these days the clocks will stop and time won't mean a thing

One of these days their bombs will drop and silence everything"

I never used to believe in the idea of soul mates.  I watched my mother and dad sleep in separate rooms for years before she finally left to "find herself" and dragged us along with her.  And the man I thought I'd grow old with decided a wife and children weren't worth the effort - I left before I gave up my sanity completely trying to be the "good wife."

"But it's alright

Yeah it's alright

I said it's alright"

I figured it wasn't worth it to try anymore - I was a mom, not a wife, and I focused on that for a long time. But the crushing loneliness took its toll.

"Easy for you to say

Your heart has never been broken

Your pride has never been stolen

Not yet not yet"

And then I met David.

We used to laugh at the naysayers - people who didn't really know us who thought we were crazy for carrying on a relationship from 5000 miles apart.  Family who knew me and only wanted to see me happy but didn't know David other than someone I talked about all the time.  

"One of these days

I bet your heart'll be broken

I bet your pride'll be stolen

I bet I bet I bet I bet

One of these days

One of these days"

When we first met, I was astounded that any man could be as generous and loving as he was.  It was out of my experience - and we had a bit of a time getting used to one another.  David never seemed overwhelmed, always said the right things at the right time, loved me completely and made me laugh all the time.  I still have trouble believing someone could love me as much as I loved him. 

David and I, Irish Catholic and California Protestant, loved the same God, and we considered each other as God's gifts to us.

"One of these days your eyes will close and pain will disappear

One of these days you will forget to hope and learn to fear"

I was trying to come to him at Christmas - it was his 50th birthday and I was going to meet his daughter in person for the first time, and I was going to insist on meeting the parents finally.  He was trying to get enough money together to come to California, where he was happy to learn to live with the hot weather and be a grandpa.

And then David was gone.

"One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat"

It surprises me still that I can be going along, living my life the best I can, singing in the kitchen while I cook, planning fun things to do with my girls, griping about work - and then all of a sudden I break.

"Don't say it's alright

Don't say it's alright

Don't say it's alright"

I know God has a plan - I know this.  David was a part of it - and he's up there now telling me to keep strong and be faithful.  Some days are easier than others, and I'm not as weepy as a few months ago.  Between David and the Lord I have been and continue to be loved fully. 

Let me quote another song, one I learned as a child and remember when things overwhelm me:

"For I know whom I have believed,

and am persuaded that He is able

to keep that which I've committed 

unto Him against that day."

David always teased me about knowing all the "Proddy" hymns.  But I know how much he loved to hear me sing, and even though he's not here now, I will sing for God instead - and see David in heaven when my time comes.

"One of these days

One of these days

One of these days"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"These Days" - Foo Fighters 2011

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDVAQI-4lto 

"I Know Whom I Have Believed" - Daniel W. Whittle/James McGranahan 1883

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KMWd8nEQ2s

Adventures in Church Choir Directing

It is 10 days until Easter.  

I struggle with keeping things fresh with my choir.  At almost age 52, I'm actually one of the freshest of us there.  

David was supposed to be here to help me (and be my sound engineer), and we were going to "Rule The World" together.  I looked forward to introducing him to my church family, something he wasn't quite sure he understood, and to having someone in the tech deck who, as the Pastor put it, "got me."

They are a wonderful, loving, caring group of people who encourage me most of the time and put up with my expectations of choral greatness.  When my dad passed away in 2007, these people were my strength and singing was my outlet for grief.

When David died in December, they were all there again, telling me how much they loved me and allowing me my all-encompassing grief for a few weeks.

But I think I've done it again.  I've gotten my hopes up, raised my expectations too high and fear I am inadequate to the task of being the girl in charge.

I struggle with so many things in my life - the grief, the physical and mental exhaustion of trying to help keep some stability in my grandchildren's lives, the endless hours sitting at a desk doing nothing because I've already done it all before 10 am.

So when someone tonight told me that everyone was going to be looking at me on Easter, I simply stopped.

I was so excited about this music that I picked, and they were doing their best to learn it and make it sound like the real thing instead of a small church choir.  If David had been here, he would have put his wonderful ear, his instant recognition of what needed to be done, and his fingers to work on the sound board to make it sound great.

But everyone is going to be looking at me on Easter.

I am trying very hard to be my own champion since David is gone now.  Or, actually, I'm trying very hard to allow God to be my champion, which is what I should have been doing in the first place.

I don't want them to look at me at Easter.  I want them to look at God.  

I was hoping the music would allow that, bring the people to Him and Him to the people.  It's part of the reason why I accepted the choir director's position.

Meanwhile, I try to give the choir the chance to sing and do it well, and some nights are harder than others, but tonight everybody was looking at me.  

I love performing.  I love teaching.  I love directing.  I am excited by every new shiny thing that I can do or say or sing. 

But I don't want everyone to look at me.