The Concert

So I've been rather quiet lately, due in part to just being Way. Too. Busy.  But if I'm being honest (and I will be), I've been ignoring my blog.  Don't think I've been ignoring grief - I've been in several situations where I've just had to talk, and think, and work through 'stuff'.  Writing about it seems like more work.  Good work, but difficult.  Therapeutic.  But draining.

My last couple posts have been mostly about fears and anticipation surrounding upcoming 'events'.  I wanted to write about how those events unfolded.

The first event - the concert at our church fall festival about a month ago - almost exactly a month ago, actually.  It was so much fun.  :-)  SO MUCH FUN.  It was also pretty cold since it was outdoors, but it didn't really matter.  It was just fun.  And overall, I thought it went well.  I did *butcher* one Crowder song because the piano keys were kinda sticky (from being outside in the cold), and my fingers were cold and not moving as fast as I was trying to make them.  And I'm always afraid that maybe I just shouldn't sing - especially by myself.  But, other than my usual being-critical-of-myself kinds of things, it really did go well.  I LOVED IT.  And want more of it.  :-)

One of the things I was more keenly aware of that night was my tendency to feel 'reserved'.  Us reformed people can be pretty 'stiff'.  And... reserved.  ;-)  I'm not thinking that I'd like for that to change drastically or anything, but I think my face and posture ought to reflect what's going on in my head and heart.  Something to think on, I guess.

Yes, overall it went really well.  And I loved it.  :-)

I'm not sure how to 'transition' into where I want to go next.  Doesn't feel right to say 'However...'.  Or 'There was only one thing that...'.  Because where I want to go next is not just a 'However' kind of paragraph.  It's so much bigger than that.  So much bigger than just 'There was only one thing...'.  It was a cold splash of reality.  A wave of grief - someone else's as well as my own - that caught me way off guard.

That day, I left Levi's soccer game early so that I could go home and get ready for the concert.  I stopped on the way to pick up a pizza for the kids and our sitter to have for dinner.

When I parked, I read a text from my friend, Maria.  She told me that her Jaxson had died that day.  I think he was born on September 23, and he lived almost a month.

Heart. Broken.

Reading that text - hearing that another sweet baby's life had been entirely to short, and that another mom's deeply aching grief was beginning - it did a number of things.

It made me cry.  Weep.

It pissed me off.

It made me want to throw things.

It made me wonder how in the world I was going to go play and sing that night.

It made me wonder why in the world I was going to go play and sing that night.

It made me not nervous (about the concert) anymore.

It made me play and sing with a little different perspective.

It made me want to play and sing - with Maria in mind.

And then it made me cry some more.  And get angry some more.  *sigh*  It's a vicious cycle.

Maria, I love you.  I wish I could hug you and cry *with* you.


I started writing this morning intending to write about this concert as well as that Saturday morning choir rehearsal.  But I think I need to stop here.