Tag: Loss

another tribute?

Last week, I attended a choral concert at Binghamton University that had been billed as a tribute to Dr. Bruce Borton, who had served in the music department for almost three decades and who passed away in August.

I wrote here about the concert that the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton presented last month and had hoped that the concert at the University would address Bruce’s legacy there, but I was disappointed. It seemed that the choral groups had prepared their fall concert as usual and just tacked a couple of pieces on the end that they tied to Dr. Borton.

The most direct tie was the combined choirs singing “Bogoroditse Devo” from the Rachmaninoff All-Night Vigil. I had sung the piece with the now-defunct University Chorus under Bruce’s direction and this particular movement additional times. It was chosen because Bruce was a scholar of Rachmaninoff and loved this work in particular.

It was difficult for me to listen to it. I knew it well and could notice the differences in interpretation but the most glaring difference was the lack of maturity in the sound, especially from the basses. It’s not, of course, the singers’ fault that their voices are still maturing, but it demonstrated the reason that University Chorus, which included students, staff, and community members, was so important to Bruce. A more age-diverse choir can produce a richer sound and excute a greater expressive range than a younger choir. This might not matter with some repertoire, but it does with Rachmaninoff.

I was disappointed that they hadn’t reached out to the University Chorus alums still in the area to join the students to perform this piece. It wouldn’t have taken much rehearsal to include us as we know the piece well and it would have been very meaningful for us. I wish they had also reached out to us or a faculty member who worked with Bruce to speak about him. As it was, the only spoken tribute was from a former graduate conducting student, read from a cell phone by one of the conductors.

The concert intensified my feelings of loss, not only of Bruce but also of University Chorus, which was so dear to his heart and to our community.

losing Joan

(Photo by July on Unsplash)

I got news yesterday of the death of a college friend.

Joan and I met in Ron Perera‘s first-year music theory class. Like me, Joan was a western Massachusetts native and a Catholic with close ties to her family. She was a talented violinist. I remember her giving a demonstration to our theory class, showing us all the techniques used to create different sonorities for us to use in our compositions.

For junior year, Joan went to the University of Michigan and decided to transfer there to finish her education. However, “once a Smithie, always a Smithie,” Joan remained a member of the Smith College class of ’82.

Joan went on to a successful career playing in orchestras, concluding with a long tenure with the Kennedy Center Opera Orchestra in Washington, DC. Her performance schedule kept her busy but, two years ago, she was able to attend our 40th reunion in Northampton, visiting family in the area which hadn’t been possible during the height of the pandemic. While we had been keeping in touch over the years, it was the first time in decades that we had seen each other and it was great. We started speculating where we would each be living post-retirement when our 45th reunion rolled around.

Right after reunion, Joan developed COVID. Fortunately, she wasn’t very sick but she was bummed about missing some of her opera performances.

It was a shock when she was diagnosed with acute lymphoma that fall. She immediately began chemotherapy. Due to the intensity of the treatment and her weakened immune system, she had to stay at home, where her husband Paul was her loving and capable caregiver.

In summer of last year, Joan was able to resume performing while her treatment migrated to a maintenance regimen. This January, she was posting about the orchestra.

And, sometime since, her remission ended and the cancer came back with a vengeance.

I didn’t know.

Early this month, I had emailed her some new photos of my granddaughters and Joan sent a reply about how beautiful they are. Sending photos had been something I had done during her home-bound period and continued to do from time to time. I am grateful that I was unknowingly able to add a moment of love and beauty to her final weeks.

Hearing the news of Joan’s death from our Smith friends was a shock and brought waves of tears. It’s also brought to mind this recent Washington Post article, raising the disturbing prospect that SARS-CoV -2 infection may play a role in the development of cancer, particularly rare or unusual ones. It will take years of research to determine whether or not this is the case but the mystery of it all is disquieting.

The final commendation at Joan’s funeral will begin, “May the angels lead you into Paradise.” May there be a beautiful violin waiting for you there, Joan.

Father’s Day in absentia

Photo Credit: Andrea Eastman

Today is celebrated as Father’s Day in the United States. My dad, known here at Top of JC’s Mind as Paco, passed away in 2021. My spouse B, father to our daughters E and T, is visiting with extended family in Maine; T is with him but I wasn’t able to make the trip.

Because of all that, I wasn’t really planning to observe Father’s Day today but I got an email from my younger sister, asking if I had a hard copy of the photo above. Nana and Paco had this portrait taken at Eastman Studios in Binghamton, New York, after they retired here. I don’t have an exact date, but I’m guessing it was taken in the late 1980s-early ’90s.

I went upstairs to look for it in the two large bags of photo albums and framed pictures that we had taken home from Paco’s last apartment. The first album I picked up was one that my sister had put together for one his last Father’s Days.

Of course, this photo was part of the album.

I spent some time going through it. It begins with photos from Nana and Paco’s youth and their wedding in 1954. There are photos of my sisters and me growing up, our home, extended family, and travels. Later, there are photos of them with their grandchildren and finally photos of their great-granddaughters.

So, I did get to spend time with my dad today and see his smile – multiple times.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

Miss you.

Memorial Day

(Photo by Lucas Sankey on Unsplash)

Today is observed as Memorial Day in the United States, set aside to honor all those who died in the armed services.

One of our neighbors has turned their front yard into a memorial for the day with small flags in rows and a sign listing the last names of those killed in recent US military actions, starting with Iraq and Afghanistan.

Remembering them and all who have died in service of the United States today and hoping for peace and comfort for the families who grieve their loss.

Also, praying for peace so that no more deaths will be added to those already suffered over the centuries.

“First Grandchild” on Silver Birch Press

I am honored that my poem “First Grandchild” from my chapbook Hearts (Kelsay Books, 2023) is featured today by Silver Birch Press as part of their ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER series. Many thanks to Melanie and the Silver Birch Press team for including me in this series!

The first grandchild in the title is my daughter E, shown in the photo above holding baby ABC with my mother, known here at Top of JC’s Mind as Nana, and me.

You can read a bit more about the writing of the poem in the author’s note at the link above.

Having this appear at this time is especially poignant. May 16th would have been my mother’s 92nd birthday.

Tomorrow, May 22nd, will be the fifth anniversary of her death.

It’s a good day to remember the immense love and care that she showed for all of us for so many years.

Her love lives on.

(a different) Mother’s Day

In the US, we are observing Mother’s Day today. While its origin was in a call for peace after the Civil War, today it is celebrated as a tribute to mothers of all types and ages.

Since the death of my mother in May, 2019, Mother’s Day has felt bittersweet to me, as it brings back that time when, within two May weeks, there was my mom’s last Mother’s Day, birthday, and the date of her death. It’s complicated further by having daughter E and granddaughters ABC and JG five time zones away.

This year has brought the additional worry of a family member’s upcoming surgery and the possibility of an underlying disorder yet to be diagnosed.

Then, there is the general upheaval in the US and so many other places in the world, war, hunger, the climate crisis, disasters, and I will end the list here, but we know it is much longer.

It’s a lot with which to contend and I’m not coping very well.

I mentioned in a Stream of Consciousness Saturday post in mid-April that I was hearing a sound in my left ear. This, along with some additional symptoms, has led to several primary care visits, a diagnosis of tinnitus, some attempts at treatment, and, on Friday, a decision to order an MRI to rule out various tumors or other abnormalities.

Of course, there is the possibility of not “ruling out” but discovering.

I admit that I’m struggling. I’m practiced with blocking things out or setting them aside to concentrate on caring for family members. Part of my problem right now is that the timing is unfortunate as I am the main driver and errand-runner and don’t want to be out of commission when I’m needed to help with surgical recovery and follow-on medical appointments. I know spouse B will drop everything at work to take care of things but I also know that his project is in a critical phase right now.

I need humility, trust, and the grace to step aside and let others take over the work I should or have been doing and put other things aside for a while, but it’s hard and I’m worried and tired.

Maybe they will examine my head and not find anything.

Wait. That doesn’t sound right.

Maybe they won’t find anything dangerous.

Maybe, I can get a grip when the MRI is actually scheduled and on my calendar. After all, this is not my first rodeo with medical mystery ailments. Some of them have even been mine. I’m just more annoyed with my own. I know I need to channel some of the compassion I have toward others and apply it to myself.

And maybe take a nap.

It’s been helpful to write this down. I am questioning whether or not it is wise to post it, but have decided to do so because authenticity is part of the charm? hallmark? conceit? of Top of JC’s Mind.

And, yes, it’s Mother’s Day and B is making lamb spiedies and grilled asparagus with his homemade tiramisu for dessert.

And there have been sweet cards and a present.

And the lilies of the valley are starting to bloom.

They were my mother’s birth flower and a favorite of hers.

The photo is from my mother’s 87th and last birthday, lilies of the valley from our yard and cards from my father and their artist-friend Jim.

Miss you today, Mom.

19 years ago

About my friend Angie.

(Hearts graphic by Angie Traverse)

Nineteen years ago today, my friend Angie died from lung cancer. She was only 54. She had never smoked or lived in a house with high radon or worked in a place with known carcinogens but, by whatever combination of genetics and living, cancer appeared and was diagnosed when she was fifty.

She was treated by some great doctors locally and in Boston and she fought hard for four years and some months, but passed away on Good Friday, 2005.

There have been a lot of developments in cancer treatment since then, some of which are advertised on television. I often wonder if any of those medications would have helped Angie live longer and better.

For years, I made contributions on March 25 and on Angie’s October birthday to the charitable fund established in her memory but, a few years back, the online page went away. Now, I just remember and write an occasional post. One of my favorite Angie posts is this one, written when I turned 54.

That year, I also wrote a poem about Angie, which was published by Wilderness House Literary Review:

Fifty-four

We were the October Babes,
You from 1950,
Me from 1960.

On your fifty-fourth birthday,
You managed coffee ice cream with hot fudge
Despite the metastases in your neck.

On my fifty-fourth birthday,
I raise a solo toast with your favorite Coke-with-a-lemon-wedge
To the October Babes being fifty-four together.
*****

This October, God willing, I will turn 64.

I wish Angie were still here, as an about-to-be 74-year-old grandma, mom, artist, and dear friend. The world could use her compassion, creativity, and spirit right now.

SoCS: living room couch

Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is to write about a memory of the room you are in. I’m in my living room, looking at our empty couch and remembering a holiday photo when out-of-town relatives arrived to visit after Christmas. We had gathered in front of, on, and behind the couch.

There were my parents, my sisters and one brother-in-law, daughters and son-in-law, niece and nephew. My other brother-in-law isn’t in the photo because he was the photographer.

The person who was there but declined to join the photo was my mother-in-law. We wanted her to join in but she didn’t want to because it was “my side of the family” and she didn’t feel that she belonged. To me, it was just family and she belonged in the photo but, of course, we accepted her decision.

We didn’t know that she would suffer a heart attack that next March and pass away. We just passed the anniversary of her death.

We’ve since lost both my parents. Daughter E and her family are living “across the pond” in London. With my parents gone, I don’t have as many opportunities to see my sisters who came to our area to see them.

So, this morning, empty couch. Lots of memories.

the empty couch

(grand)childcare

(Photo: ABC’s bear wearing a Binghamton Rumble Ponies cap)

Spouse B, daughter T, and I are in London this week visiting daughter E, son-in-law L, and granddaughters ABC and JG for half-term break. This first half of the week, both E and L are working, so our main goal is taking care of ABC and JG so they can do that.

The last time we were together in person was April when they came to our home in the US. Although we do video calls, they can’t really capture the changes that happen. JG, now 3 and attending full-day nursery school is chatting up a storm! She loves making puzzles, zooming around our rental house near their home, and following the lead of 6-year-old ABC, who likes or tolerates it most of the time. ABC, now in year 2 at school, is reading well and a master of make-believe. She can make up songs and lyrics on the spot, taking after her musically-and-literary-accomplished parents. ABC also enjoys dance and art.

I love watching B being Grandpa, playing games, reading stories, preparing meals and snacks, and dozing off during naptime. T is an involved auntie, playing endless games of hide-and-seek and whatever make-believe ABC has invented and giving gentle hugs, in deference to her still-healing shoulder.

My favorite thing is just being here as family. With the ocean between us, it’s a rare gift to snuggle on the couch, especially with JG who was born during the early part of the pandemic and whom we didn’t get to meet in person until she was a year old. Such a different grandparenting experience than with ABC who lived with us in the US until she was two.

For JG, I’m just Nana. ABC, though, remembers her Great-Nana, who passed away in 2019.

I miss my parents and wish I could be as good a grandparent as they were with E and T.

Writing about family

Today’s prompt for Linda’s Just Jot It January is “family,” contributed by Kim of Twisted Trunk Travels. Check out their blogs!

Over these last ten-ish years of writing poetry and blogging here at Top of JC’s Mind, I have written way more often about my family than I thought I would. Of course, it made perfect sense to blog about visiting daughter E and son-in-law L in Hawai’i, as folks often blog about their travels, but as time and circumstances changed and I faced the challenges of caregiving for various generations of the family, posts about family became more frequent. I also used poetry as a way to process things that were going on with my family, most notably about my mother’s experiences living with and dying from heart disease, which became my first published chapbook, Hearts (Kelsay Books, 2023).

I do try to protect my family members by referring to them with initials or nicknames rather than their given names. Nearly all of them use a different surname so only people who know us in real life are likely to recognize them from posts. Currently, spouse B and daughter T are most likely to appear as we are living in the same house, although we will soon be going to visit daughter E, son-in-law L, and granddaughters ABC and JG in London. which may generate some posts. My daughters’ grandparents were called on the blog by the names they used for them, Nana and Paco for my parents and Grandma for B’s mom. (Sadly, B’s dad, known as Grandpa, passed away in 2005, before I was blogging and writing poetry, although his death was the subject of one of my earliest published poems.) If you are perusing the archives of Top of JC’s Mind, you’ll come across posts dealing with their final years and the grief following their deaths.

One thing that strikes me about my family posts and poems is how often they spark comments and conversations about people’s own experiences. Knowing that I offer that space for people to reflect on themselves and their own families is a big part of why I continue to write about my family.

What about you? Do you find it helpful to write about your family, either privately in a journal or in more public ways?
*****
It’s not too late to join in with #JusJoJan24! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/01/29/daily-prompt-jusjojan-the-29th-2024/