Tears...

   In the days, weeks, months after Joanne's death I cried often and a lot. Now, over 18 months into the land of grief tears are infrequent. Today they welled in my eyes as our music director played "Joanne's" piano for the offertory.  It was the combination of the beautiful Impromptu in G Flat Major, played flawlessly on "her' piano.

    Joanne would have loved the music played by her beloved, Steve Self, and been tickled that the instrument is in her memory. Music can stir the soul and it did today. It was powerful combination of beauty and the presence of absence.

    Aging has brought many gifts to me. Today in jest I told a friend that there's nothing left after age 60. The years after 60 have brought me profound loss but also innumerable gifts. The day that they ask me for my car keys is a day I dread (see the poem) below. 

Dangerous Driving
by Caroline Johnson

"The car is a lethal weapon," my father swore
to me when I was getting my driver's license.

Still I went on, laughing at him, driving to the most
dangerous places, pushing the accelerator
as fast and hard as I could.

I received my stack of speeding tickets,
and my father threatened to remove
my name from the insurance policy.

"The car is a lethal weapon," he said again.

Thirty years later, my brakes go out while
driving on a busy Chicago expressway.
I read the billboards, numb, unable to stop.

I get my car fixed, then we take the keys
away from my father, who is struggling
from years of Parkinson's disease.

"The car is a lethal weapon," I tell him,
but he still wants to drive.
 

Caroline Johnson, “Dangerous Driving” from The Caregiver. Copyright © 2018 by Caroline Johnson. Used  (Writer's Almanac)

Takk for alt,

Al

"Joanne's" piano.