Healing: Another Experience

As I sat there in the quiet solace of the funeral home, it dawned on me that it was my first time at a funeral since performing at my father’s funeral. Would I be okay? How would I react being in this setting?
Before long, my hands began to play and the sounds filled the entire place. The funeral director came and smiled at me. He closed the doors so as not to allow anyone in before the appropriate time; however, a head or two would peep in. It was not long before the doors were open and people filed in sporadically.
The tears began to fall, and the muffled sounds of crying were heard. This is to be expected at a funeral which is why boxes of tissues are readily available. I found myself in the dynamics of my music, and performed many of the same songs that I performed for my father. As the crying continued, more people trickled in and embraced each other. Some people approached the casket for a final look while others heavily sank into the pews. The thought of my mother falling asleep to my music crossed my mind as I began the next selection. This was a healing process in plain view.
My hour came to a close, and my eyes fell on the Soprano. She was set to sing a capella. After discovering that the Ave Maria was included on the program, we performed it together. When we were finished, we smiled at each other and agreed that we had to do a concert together. The last time that I saw her was at my father’s funeral where she made the crowd swoon with her rendition of the Lord’s Prayer. Here we were again for yet another congregation of mourners with our classical repertoire in hand.
After leaving the funeral home, the problem of lunch arose. There was enough time for me to grab a smoothie and pack the music for the wedding that was awaiting me in a few hours. It was said that my day sounded emotionally draining. Perhaps, but in truth, I feel very prepared for such situations. It is at this point in my life when I realize how much healing is a part of my job.

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