Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Truly, One of My Best Nights
I love live music, but was not prepared to fall so hard for the band I met this past weekend. Midnight to Twelve rocked our fine city both Friday and Saturday night. I had listened to their cd quite a bit so I knew they were good, but they blew me away live.
After Friday's show, I was chatting with the lead singer, Jon, trying to figure out why I knew him. We finally figured out, of all places, that it was our church youth group! We traded memories of our summer trips, repairing homes in the South. "Remember trying to fix those roach-covered cabinets...build those bunk-beds...fix that toilet and ALL of that painting?" I hadn't thought about those friends and those days for a long time, so the trip down memory lane was a welcome one. All of the time on the town with old friends and new was non-stop fun, but the end of the weekend was unforgettable.
On Monday night, I was invited to a BBQ at the home of one of my new friends (and where M212 was staying). Of course, I had met the guys on Friday and talked with them Saturday, but was still a little surprised by their genuineness. These guys have the piercings, screams, tattoos and mo-hawks one would expect of a rock band, but they were so real. They spoke of favorite places, adorable children, past gigs and amazingly understanding wives and girlfriends. They even raved ridiculously over my chocolate chip cookies--toying with me about going on tour as their caterer...
After dinner the crowd thinned, and I was invited out to the bus for a little tour. The next few hours were a blur that started with my honest question of,
"How do you write...do you start with the music, a hook, a lyric...?"
"Oh, Pam. Great question."
Thus began hours of songwriting discussions with examples, acoustic jam sessions and thorough explanations of the combination of emotion, skill sets and honest passion. Band members would hop on and off the bus, joining us on occasion--adding lyrics and drums. Somewhere in there, Jay asked me to sing and soon Tami convinced me to play and sing something for the guys...and I actually did! Check! Huge fear conquered there for this living room musician. I can't express how unreal it was to look up from behind that (their beautiful) guitar to see them looking back at me, encouraging me, then leading me into attempting to write a song of my own.
Al (the bass player) started playing some simple chords I knew (more beautifully than I ever have ;), then said, "Just jump in when you feel it." My eyebrows flew up. "You can do it, no words, just sing." I looked up at Jon, "I know you hear it, Pam. It's right there, just let it out." How did he know? But, I'm so afraid that my emotions will explode right along with it if I let go...
The tears were already welling up, so after a few more bars of the soothing intro, Jon asked if I just wanted them to try it, and I was grateful for the merciful pass.
I only wish there would have been some way to record it. The music moved through my soul and I teared up again as I soaked in our intimate little candlelit setting.
Who gets to do this? Who listens to gifted musicians create right in front of you?
While they are clearly an indie/ alternative/rock band, the blend of a simple acoustic and their voices was overwhelmingly beautiful...just indescribable.
I finally made it to bed around 2 that night, and I've felt physical exhaustion ever since--but not in my spirit. The creative high that remains was well worth it. Maybe I'll rest this weekend...
After Friday's show, I was chatting with the lead singer, Jon, trying to figure out why I knew him. We finally figured out, of all places, that it was our church youth group! We traded memories of our summer trips, repairing homes in the South. "Remember trying to fix those roach-covered cabinets...build those bunk-beds...fix that toilet and ALL of that painting?" I hadn't thought about those friends and those days for a long time, so the trip down memory lane was a welcome one. All of the time on the town with old friends and new was non-stop fun, but the end of the weekend was unforgettable.
On Monday night, I was invited to a BBQ at the home of one of my new friends (and where M212 was staying). Of course, I had met the guys on Friday and talked with them Saturday, but was still a little surprised by their genuineness. These guys have the piercings, screams, tattoos and mo-hawks one would expect of a rock band, but they were so real. They spoke of favorite places, adorable children, past gigs and amazingly understanding wives and girlfriends. They even raved ridiculously over my chocolate chip cookies--toying with me about going on tour as their caterer...
After dinner the crowd thinned, and I was invited out to the bus for a little tour. The next few hours were a blur that started with my honest question of,
"How do you write...do you start with the music, a hook, a lyric...?"
"Oh, Pam. Great question."
Thus began hours of songwriting discussions with examples, acoustic jam sessions and thorough explanations of the combination of emotion, skill sets and honest passion. Band members would hop on and off the bus, joining us on occasion--adding lyrics and drums. Somewhere in there, Jay asked me to sing and soon Tami convinced me to play and sing something for the guys...and I actually did! Check! Huge fear conquered there for this living room musician. I can't express how unreal it was to look up from behind that (their beautiful) guitar to see them looking back at me, encouraging me, then leading me into attempting to write a song of my own.
Al (the bass player) started playing some simple chords I knew (more beautifully than I ever have ;), then said, "Just jump in when you feel it." My eyebrows flew up. "You can do it, no words, just sing." I looked up at Jon, "I know you hear it, Pam. It's right there, just let it out." How did he know? But, I'm so afraid that my emotions will explode right along with it if I let go...
The tears were already welling up, so after a few more bars of the soothing intro, Jon asked if I just wanted them to try it, and I was grateful for the merciful pass.
I only wish there would have been some way to record it. The music moved through my soul and I teared up again as I soaked in our intimate little candlelit setting.
Who gets to do this? Who listens to gifted musicians create right in front of you?
While they are clearly an indie/ alternative/rock band, the blend of a simple acoustic and their voices was overwhelmingly beautiful...just indescribable.
I finally made it to bed around 2 that night, and I've felt physical exhaustion ever since--but not in my spirit. The creative high that remains was well worth it. Maybe I'll rest this weekend...
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The Night I Sang in a Bar
Last weekend, some girlfriends and I went to a cozy little bar called R.G. Books. It's a classy place...tablecloths, leather sofas, full bookshelves lining the walls. This particular night they even had some live music--a talented guitarist with even better vocals. Anyone who can pull off Frank Sinatra and Ben Harper has my respect. So, I was enjoying a few with my friends, when I put in a request for a little KT Tunstall. He said he was too hoarse and couldn't do it justice, but that I could try it. Without thinking too much (and some additional coaxing from my entourage), I was up holding the mike. Suddenly conversations faded, and it was frighteningly hushed before I eased out the first line. By the chorus, I had caught my stride. I felt a surge of confidence when I glimpsed the surprised look on the guitarist's face. He caught me looking, we made eye-contact and he started singing back up for me. I'm sure the adrenaline was pumping, but I was shocked by how at ease I became. The only thing more surprising was when the crowd clapped and cheered so enthusiastically. My friends were encouraging as I settled back in with them, and the evening continued as relaxed as it began. I enjoyed more girl-talk and people watching before he nodded for me to join him for one more song.I still had a smile on my face as I slipped into bed. One more event I never thought I could do has been checked off my list. Who knows what unexpected adventure this next week will bring...
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
I'm Holding Him in my Heart
Remembering
I heard somewhere that grief doesn't necessarily follow the calendar, but my heart is swelling today. Again, on a day where it feels like it would be easier to have rain, it's sunnier than I'd like. I guess, in another way, it reminds me to live and celebrate his life--as much as I'd like to crawl into a cave and swim around in the sadness.
So instead, with my head filled with pictures and memories of him rubbing his head back and forth, his cough, his voice, his long lashes, his smell, his soft wavy hair, his little yawn, and his indescribable eyes, I'm going to take a little memory walk of my own. Today it is with gratitude (and a touch of selfish sadness) that I wrap those thoughts in my heart and take them for a hike around a lake that I know Will would've loved fishing with me.
Knowing Will for his lifetime has changed mine, and for that I am so blessed.
I heard somewhere that grief doesn't necessarily follow the calendar, but my heart is swelling today. Again, on a day where it feels like it would be easier to have rain, it's sunnier than I'd like. I guess, in another way, it reminds me to live and celebrate his life--as much as I'd like to crawl into a cave and swim around in the sadness.
So instead, with my head filled with pictures and memories of him rubbing his head back and forth, his cough, his voice, his long lashes, his smell, his soft wavy hair, his little yawn, and his indescribable eyes, I'm going to take a little memory walk of my own. Today it is with gratitude (and a touch of selfish sadness) that I wrap those thoughts in my heart and take them for a hike around a lake that I know Will would've loved fishing with me.
Knowing Will for his lifetime has changed mine, and for that I am so blessed.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Feeling the Ache
I feel the need to express my thoughts with more clarity tonight, but my brain is more content to be swirling with warm memories of my nephew, Will. Honestly, I almost don't want to let myself 'go there.' I just want to stay with the warm thoughts of holding him, bathing him, staring into his eyes...I promised myself that I would take tomorrow to do just that. Pour over pictures and write out the details of my memories so I can re-live the joy again. The joy of knowing a little boy who changed my view of everything.
So, tomorrow I will celebrate and remember and sing. Tonight, I want to let the walls down so I can feel everything...to kind of wade through and acknowledge some of the ache so I can more fully feel the warmth of the joy and beauty, as well.
For weeks, these tiny snippets of this evening, last year have been flashing in my mind. I've been avoiding it. I look for a second, then try to distract myself--afraid I'll lose my composure out in public. Afraid I'll remember all too clearly; the shock, the cries and groans and petitions made, burying my face in the carpet, begging for it not to be true, hours passing with no news, running out of questions and words for God, the phone ringing again. Most frequently, I remember hearing myself cry out as I hung up the phone and collapsed onto the tile.
Looking back, I can see there must have been some imperceptible showering of grace in the hours that followed, because I was able to compose the following email a few hours later.
Friends,
I've been trying to write this message, and can't seem to start. I
hope you will all forgive me for the method in which I need to share
this news. I physically can't say the words, so today I'm glad for
email.
My nephew, Will, passed away early this morning.
I just can't believe it. I thought he was doing so well. My brother
was with him at the heart and kidney unit getting prepped for a heart
cath that was supposed to happen today. His next heart surgery was
fast approaching, so they were getting all the necessary tests under
way. But, this morning, his heart stopped and they couldn't get it
going again. After four months and three days of fighting, his heart
just stopped.
Many of you know that I was so blessed about a month ago to spend
a week with my family in D.C. My time spent there with Will and Ella
was more meaningful than I could have imagined.
Today, I just keep thanking God that I was able to have that time.
Time to help bathe him.
Time to clean his bottles.
Time to read books.
Time to see him snuggle with the bear I had made.
Time to take pictures (that annoying camera-happy AuntPammy).
Time to ride along on a journey to the hospital for a doctor's appointment--tubes,
oxygen, heart monitor and all .
Time to pat him up on his shoulder, just the way he liked (one rhythmic finger),
when he needed to be comforted.
Time to stare into his eyes and have him stare back at me.
Time to hold him high on my shoulder and feel his heartbeat and his chest rise with every breath.
Knowing Will blessed me.
Somehow, when Will looked at me, watched me walk by him or try to comfort him,
I felt like he really saw me. Will heard me talk to him and pray for
him. Sing to him and cry with him.
I don't know when my sobbing will stop. Or when it's going to hit
me even harder. Maybe it's the lack of sleep talking, or maybe I'll
change my mind, but today I'm just sad, not angry, that he had to
leave so soon. Selfishly, I want him with us, but after watching how
much work his tiny body had to do to keep that blood flowing, I almost
understand. Deep down, I know that my time with Will taught me so
much more than I could have taught him. We shared much more than I
could share in an email.
So, I'll close with this: It occurred to me (around 4a.m.) that my
prayers for Will and Ella have changed a lot over the past 9 months.
"Just let the twins be born. I just want to meet them." "Please,
God, let me hold them." "Please, let me know them." And although,
Will didn't make it last night, I can see that God answered all of
those requests: I met the twins shortly after they were born on May
9th, 2006.
I held Ella a few hours later, and I held Will 3 months after that.
I stayed with them for 7 full days...never enough time, but long enough
to never want to leave.
It was long enough to know what Ella's cries
mean and how she likes to be held and consoled.
Long enough to learn how to "read" Will's heart monitor and hear it going off in my sleep.
Long enough to stare into Will's eyes and instantly feel known by him.
Long enough to fall in love with them.
Four months ago today, we learned his name before he went in for his
first heart surgery.
William Addison. Don't you just love it?
Iron Will. Marathon Runner. My tiny little Superhero. And, my
favorite, "God's Will."
And he is God's Will, so I have to trust that this is God's will.
Friends, please pray for Mike, Stacy & Ella. I can only begin to
imagine their grief. Thanks so much for listening.
So, tomorrow I will celebrate and remember and sing. Tonight, I want to let the walls down so I can feel everything...to kind of wade through and acknowledge some of the ache so I can more fully feel the warmth of the joy and beauty, as well.
For weeks, these tiny snippets of this evening, last year have been flashing in my mind. I've been avoiding it. I look for a second, then try to distract myself--afraid I'll lose my composure out in public. Afraid I'll remember all too clearly; the shock, the cries and groans and petitions made, burying my face in the carpet, begging for it not to be true, hours passing with no news, running out of questions and words for God, the phone ringing again. Most frequently, I remember hearing myself cry out as I hung up the phone and collapsed onto the tile.
Looking back, I can see there must have been some imperceptible showering of grace in the hours that followed, because I was able to compose the following email a few hours later.
Friends,
I've been trying to write this message, and can't seem to start. I
hope you will all forgive me for the method in which I need to share
this news. I physically can't say the words, so today I'm glad for
email.
My nephew, Will, passed away early this morning.
I just can't believe it. I thought he was doing so well. My brother
was with him at the heart and kidney unit getting prepped for a heart
cath that was supposed to happen today. His next heart surgery was
fast approaching, so they were getting all the necessary tests under
way. But, this morning, his heart stopped and they couldn't get it
going again. After four months and three days of fighting, his heart
just stopped.
Many of you know that I was so blessed about a month ago to spend
a week with my family in D.C. My time spent there with Will and Ella
was more meaningful than I could have imagined.
Today, I just keep thanking God that I was able to have that time.
Time to help bathe him.
Time to clean his bottles.
Time to read books.
Time to see him snuggle with the bear I had made.
Time to take pictures (that annoying camera-happy AuntPammy).
Time to ride along on a journey to the hospital for a doctor's appointment--tubes,
oxygen, heart monitor and all .
Time to pat him up on his shoulder, just the way he liked (one rhythmic finger),
when he needed to be comforted.
Time to stare into his eyes and have him stare back at me.
Time to hold him high on my shoulder and feel his heartbeat and his chest rise with every breath.
Knowing Will blessed me.
Somehow, when Will looked at me, watched me walk by him or try to comfort him,
I felt like he really saw me. Will heard me talk to him and pray for
him. Sing to him and cry with him.
I don't know when my sobbing will stop. Or when it's going to hit
me even harder. Maybe it's the lack of sleep talking, or maybe I'll
change my mind, but today I'm just sad, not angry, that he had to
leave so soon. Selfishly, I want him with us, but after watching how
much work his tiny body had to do to keep that blood flowing, I almost
understand. Deep down, I know that my time with Will taught me so
much more than I could have taught him. We shared much more than I
could share in an email.
So, I'll close with this: It occurred to me (around 4a.m.) that my
prayers for Will and Ella have changed a lot over the past 9 months.
"Just let the twins be born. I just want to meet them." "Please,
God, let me hold them." "Please, let me know them." And although,
Will didn't make it last night, I can see that God answered all of
those requests: I met the twins shortly after they were born on May
9th, 2006.
I held Ella a few hours later, and I held Will 3 months after that.
I stayed with them for 7 full days...never enough time, but long enough
to never want to leave.
It was long enough to know what Ella's cries
mean and how she likes to be held and consoled.
Long enough to learn how to "read" Will's heart monitor and hear it going off in my sleep.
Long enough to stare into Will's eyes and instantly feel known by him.
Long enough to fall in love with them.
Four months ago today, we learned his name before he went in for his
first heart surgery.
William Addison. Don't you just love it?
Iron Will. Marathon Runner. My tiny little Superhero. And, my
favorite, "God's Will."
And he is God's Will, so I have to trust that this is God's will.
Friends, please pray for Mike, Stacy & Ella. I can only begin to
imagine their grief. Thanks so much for listening.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
My Day with Ben
I had a long list of things to accomplish today--many of them enjoyable, but made so much better by some alone time with my man, Ben. All right, his Innocent Criminals came along, too. Thanks to my wonderful iPod, we weeded my tomato and flower gardens, walked a few miles, ran some errands around town, went on a search for some favorite wines, drove to dinner with my parents, then washed my car. His new Lifeline went everywhere I did, and I already have a few new faves: In the Colors, Paris Sunrise #7 and Lifeline. They haven't quite surpassed my standing favorites: Steal My Kisses, Diamonds on the Inside or Waiting on an Angel, but the new collection is brilliant, soulful, funky and made me even dance a bit among the weeds.
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