October 17, 2006 at 5:43 PMToday is a hard day. I didn't expect it to be quite so obvious, constantly, but it is....Exactly a year ago today my father was in a fatal accident. He fell asleep at the wheel on the way to his Symphony concert, and died four days later from head injuries. He was a violist, violinist, piano technician, and dedicated father.
So I've been a bit under the weather today, and just now figured this is why.
After the accident, it was very hard to pick up my instrument and play. He was my teacher, and he so much enjoyed music and life, I just didn't feel like playing.
But today, I want to do nothing more than make music all day long for him to listen to, wherever he is and whatever he may be thinking. I want to play a concert for him in my living room, playing everything I know and feel is dear to my heart. I wish I could give him a live performance, but I know what is what.
So it is frustrating that my body is not working well today, and I can't get going with the day yet. Before I know it, the day will be eaten, and taken up with appointments and household things I feel compelled to do.
I won't let that happen. Dad will get his concert. He gave me the life of music, I can give him that.
Gautama Bhudda said,
This existence of ours is as transient as autmn clouds,
To watch the birth and death of beings is like looking at the movements of a dance.
A lifetime is like a flash of lightning in the sky,
Rushing by like a torrent down a steep mountain.]
We only stop for for a short time to meet and love. Although it is a precious time it is transient, a blink in the eye of eternity. In this moment w e share with love, creating abundance and joy. Then it has been worthwhile.
He was worthwhile, you are worthwhile. That is all there is. That is all we need.
Buri, thanks for writing that. It is beautiful.
No one is immortal, but some of the best parts of ourselves live on in those we have loved.
But I have been wrong. The words you guys expressed really did help me. Buri, you really have a way of hitting the core of matters, gently. I read your response in the afternoon, and it calmed a storm for awhile.
I'm still using the Kleenex here. I hope you had a good day yesterday and that the spirit of your father was right there alongside you. They do that, you know - the spirits of those who've passed away. Sometimes I can feel them, right over my shoulder, grinning away at the humor of the human condition.
Such a sad, touching story, the way you lost him. I'm so sorry. (Kleenex time again.)
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