Music and Song

 This morning, instead of turning the radio on to Classic FM as is my normal habit, I played a CD. Themes and Dreams - 24 All Time Greats. I bought it a few years ago at an Opp shop for a whole dollar. I won't labour with all the titles, but let me say that so many of the theme songs evoked emotion. When it came to No 18, tears welled. 

 

Before we got there I'd sent an SMS to my childhood best friend Graeme, in answer to one he'd sent me a day previous. He answered quickly. I cherish my communication with Graeme, renewed a couple of years ago after decades of none. He told me some months ago he was going to euthanize himself at the end of November. His reasons were ill health, inability to be productive, having to find alternative accommodation, a wish to join his wife who died 11 years ago. Fortunately he changed his mind, found affordable accommodation with the help of his son. While not completely happy where he is now, at least he's there for me to have ongoing contact. We agreed this morning it's best to focus on things you enjoy doing, with no harm to anyone or anything.

 

Track 18 was The Wind Beneath My Wings. I was transported back in time 30-40years, to a funeral I attended. A little girl was killed in an accident, she was 3 or 4 years old from memory. She was out on her family's block. Her father was cutting a tree trunk. The tree had fallen in a storm and pulled a large ball of soil out with the stump. As he cut the trunk, the weight of stump, now free of the weight holding it up out of the ground, fell back into the hole it had come from. The little girl, unbeknown to her father who was sawing, had jumped into the hole. The big stump crushed her.

 

At the time of this incident, her grandmother Fay Bastin worked at Chamomile Farm and did for a decade or more. Her daughter Allison, mother of the little girl, also worked with us for a time, as did her brother and his wife. That's why I was at the funeral. The song played at the funeral was The Wind Beneath My Wings. It cuts through me whenever I have heard it since.

 

With my emotions heightened, I continued listening to the CD. Track 23 was The Good The Bad and The Ugly. Now if there's a song that resonates with more memories than that of my mate Rickyralph, I can't think of it. He's been my great mate for 6 decades almost. He has dementia, early stages and manageable but again I was filled with great emotion. We have shared so many highs and lows in our survival path to the present.

 

I googled Fay Bastin later. The last time I asked Meredith about her a year or two ago she replied that she'd heard nothing of her since she moved to Drouin decades ago. Google told me Fay died last September and was farewelled at a family only funeral in Drouin. 

 

It's amazing, the power of music and song. Whist most of what I have written here may seem sad, it's not total sadness or pain I'm feeling. There's a joyful side to it, so many rich memories of people come over me, with huge gratitude I have known so many wonderful people. Every one of them has left a mark on me. 

 

Is it a saying - "I am the product of all I have met and known?" Seems appropriate anyway.