profound sorrow

Today, March 19, I learned that the board of directors of the Master Chorale of Washington voted to dissolve the choir at the end of our concert season in May.

To say that I am profoundly sorrowful at the news is an understatement equivalent to saying that a person would be slightly upset when he/she learns they must have an arm amputated and their eyes cut out.

I’ve been singing in the choir since 1997 and I’ve been attending the Master Chorale’s concerts since I was three-years-old, back when it was called the Paul Hill Chorale. My mom has been in the choir since 1981.

The Master Chorale, as an institution and the members who populate it, is my music family.

I grew up running around in the backstages of the Kennedy Center and through the tunnels under the Kennedy Center. I grew up listening with rapt awe and later singing Once in Royal David’s City and other Christmas carols during the annual traditional Christmas candlelight concert processional/recessional.

I fight to  hold back the tears (although I cannot stop my face from growing heated in sorrow) when I think I shall never again sing Once in Royal David’s City while carrying my folder under one arm and holding a battery operated candle in the other hand marching down the aisle of the concert hall of the Kennedy Center.

I stuck around in the choir (unlike many who left) upon the death of the choir’s founder Paul Hill in the 1990s and I’ve loved singing under our director Don as much as, if not more than, I did singing under Paul. They were different in many ways but both commanded love, devotion and respect.

Music is such a part of who I am that I fear a part of my soul will shrivel up and die if I can no longer sing in a choir (one that is as finely tuned as the Master Chorale).

I’ve had other choir directors before and while they were good,a majority of directors seemed to have the abilities of monkeys flinging feces compared to the eloquence of singing under Don’s direction. No offense to those others who I’ve sung under. There’s something about good directors that brings out absolute devotion from the members of a choir.

But it’s not just about the director.

The institution of the Master Chorale lets me leave the dirge of this life for a few minutes every week and to feel that much closer to God when the sound of the choir envelopes me and my voice congeals with those of 120 others. The music and singing with the choir leaves me feeling better than any drug has dared to compare. Often after a concert I find myself both completely exhausted and elevated.

I could say more. I could speak to the frustration I feel at having only recently learned the desperate situation our choir faces. At the anger I’m trying to hold in when I think that the board of directors didn’t wait another month to make this decision when only last week they told us that to even survive on half a budget for another year we’d have to raise 300,000 in a week.

I could say the frustration I feel that this financial situation has been building up and could have been prevented if it were not for a few people. I could say I wish I’d savored my time in the choir more.

The financial crisis we are in contributed to the downfall of the choir’s finances. Yet it was truly only the powder in the cocked and loaded gun.

I’m on deadline at my office today so I can’t acknowledge how I feel to myself. If I had a choice I’d be at home rocking in my bed, swaddled in my down comforter with a cup of tea and listening to a CD of the choir.

I have been able to keep my tears limited to my bathroom breaks. But my guess is that the reality of this will hit me when on Saturday we meet for one of our last choir pot-luck marathon rehearsals.

It is eerily apropos that we are currently rehearsing my favorite piece of music for what will be our last concert with the National Symphony Orchestra: Brahms Requiem. I usually sing it keeping in mind the memories of the loved ones I hope to see when I arrive in heaven. This time I think I’ll sing it to comfort myself and to believe that although it may be until I’m in heaven, I will ONE DAY again have the joy of singing in a choir as good as the Master Chorale.

TTFN, signed your sad Friend, Esthernow

(update: March 20, Washington Post Article on the choir’s end)

Note: My statements in no way represent the Master Chorale of Washington in whole or any of its members other than myself. They are my personal opinions.

 

Lessons from a road trip

They say you learn something about yourself when you take road trips. And that most often you return and never again want to speak to those you traveled with or you return feeling closer to them (but perhaps needing a little break to recover).

For the road trip I took with my siblings last weekend there were definitely some HUGE lessons learned and we returned in good spirits and closer and wiser as siblings.

My brother, sister and I drove down last weekend to Murfeesborough (and later Chattanooga), Tennessee, for a wedding and to visit friends.

The main purpose of the trip was for my sister to be a bridesmaid in the wedding of Rose Estes and Justin Summers. My sister was suite-mates with Rose all four years they attended a high school boarding academy in Virginia and my sister loves Rose very much. We also drove to near Chattenooga to visit with some of my college/highschool/family friends.

For my brother it was the opportunity for him to spend time with our sister and to join in on a sibling road trip.

For me it was a trip that needed to happen for my sister, so I made it happen. I also love Rose and many of my sister’s friends, so it wasn’t completely altruistic of me to offer to drive.

It was the first time in more than 10 years that my brother, sister and I were trapped in a car together for more than the span of a few hours.  The trip out to the Western area of Tennessee took about 12 hours. The return trip from Chattanooga took about 9.5 hours.

We had a good time, although we learned a lot about each other’s personalities on that trip. Suffice it to say the weekend was one big sibling therapy session…slightly painful but afterward we were glad we took the trip.

Here’s a photo of my brother, myself and my sister in Tennessee.

I also learned a couple of lessons for road trips. What to do/not to do when you go on a road trip.

1.Whether or not you have a GPS system, never go on a multistate road trip without a backup road map for each state in your glove compartment.

2. Make sure everyone’s iPod’s are charged before you leave so you can all listen to your own music if you can’t agree.  And if you are a music snob, be prepared to listen to music you don’t want to for at least half of the ride.

3. Bring thank you cards and gifts for the people you are visiting on the trip.

4. Before you go, check your car’s engine fluids and tire pressure.

5. Carry enough petty cash to get through tolls for the outbound and RETURN trip. lol.

6.  Have paper copies of telephone numbers for people you will be seeing on the road trip in case your phone battery dies.

7. Get plenty of sleep on the days leading up to the trip so you don’t kill each other.

8. Give emergency contact numbers and basic itinerary to a friend or family member at home before you leave.

9. EmergenC is a miracle for your immune system and energy levels.

10. Bring earplugs, an eye mask and a lap blanket.

11. For the love of God. Don’t forget your sunglasses if you plan to drive.

12. Bring twice the amount of food you think you’ll need on the trip. You’ll save money from not stocking up at gas stations.

and since today is Friday the 13th….

13. The alphabet game makes time pass by really fast. (Each person take a turn in alphabetical order naming a certain category. My sis, brother and I played the game for things you eat and for animals. You’d be surprised how many animals there are that start with Q and Z.

 

A month of travel

It seems like the end of last month and at least half of this month will be spent traveling (on weekends, that is).

I had a wonderful trip to San Francisco and Santa Cruz, California at the end of last month. Not only did I get some quality time with my gradmother, uncle and a friend but I had the opportunity to tour the renovated and recently re-opened California Academy of Sciences.

In one word the place is “stunning.” For those who are familiar with DC museums, this one creates a refreshing blend of the Baltimore Aquarium, a planetarium and the Natural History Museum. I could have spent the whole day there, and I nearly did.

Furthermore, the living roof and the other eco-friendly measures that were used in creating the building and its daily operations are awe inspiring.

Here is a picture of my grandman, myself, my uncle and his girlfriend.
 

Last weekend I drove up to York, Pennsylvania, to attend the baby shower of a former roommate and a girl who was a great friend. She’s expecting a boy and she’s bursting at the seams. It was wonderful to catch up with an old friend. It was weird however, to be surrounded by people my age. You see I’ve been hanging out with people who either attend or hang out with people who attend the college near by house, my Alma Mater.

This weekend shoud be even more interesting. I will be traveling with my siblings (brother and sister) to Tennessee to attend a wedding of one of my sister’s best friends. While I’m down there I’m going to take the opportunity to reconnect with a few buddies and some family friends. But pretty much most of the time will be spent as a road trip, 11.5 hr drive each way.  I’m hoping it works as a great bonding experience for us siblings.

 

Old people are like antique cars

Taking care of the elderly is like trying to maintain an antique car. No matter how much TLC you give them…. eventually they are going to give out. My mom once told me that.

I grew up in a nursing home. My living room was where the elderly patients sat and watched TV. They used my bathroom, ate in our dining room and often even celebrated Christmas with us. You get the diea.

There are times in my life when I realize that I have to step back from the family drama and just let things happen.

I’m not sure whether this is such a moment, but my hunch is it might be.

My paternal grandmother isn’t doing so well. She’s 93 and living with my uncle in Santa Cruz, California. My uncle takes superb care of her and he also makes sure she gets to go out and see plays, go for walks and attends classical concerts (so much that many of the professional instrumentalists in Santa Cruz know my grandma by name).

He also takes her to the church where my grandma gets to visit with an Indian lady about grandma’s age. The two women have known each other for many years since both their husbands worked and traveled together. Grandma’s eyes just sparkle when she sees her girlfriend at the church. They will just sit there and hold hands during all the service.

Uncle’s love, dedication and unselfishness astounds me and makes me respect him all the more.

I add here that Grandma Hartman is my soul mate, one of a very few in my life. It will be very hard to loose her.

But grandma is old. It’s as simple as that.  And I’m sorry if this sounds cold but, taking care of the elderly is like maintaining an old car– it’s mostly guesswork, it requires a lot of TLC and no matter how much you take care of it, the car will give out eventually.

Well my uncle (and my aunt) now is faced with having to plan what to do when Grandma dies.For the first time he has found out all the numbers he will need to call My dad, who wants to imagine her healthy, wants nothing to do with making funeral arrangements. And my guess, although it breaks my heart, is that he won’t be able to visit her in the state she is in. It would break his fragile heart.

Oh dad that I could be your strength, but I can’t.It was all I could do, with strength granted to me from God alone, to help heal the hurt that has built up between my father and his siblings. I fear that there is nothing I can do to stop that from happening again when grandma dies. Their sorrow will be so strong that they will lash out and re-open those freshly closed wounds. And I will not be able to mourn at the funeral because I will be doing everything I can to keep things at peace. But to honor Grandma, that is what I will do.

I force back the tears even as I write.

Grandma has asked “uncle” to let her die at home. I don’t think he quite knows how his house will haunt him when she’s gone but that’s something one can only understand after they’ve had someone die in their house.

So here’s my decision.

I can’t fix the issues that have been built over yearsand years between the siblings no matter how much I know they love each other, I don’t think it will be enough.

I can’t make my father run to grandma’s side. It has to be his choice. And I understand why he can’t because I’m not good at goodbyes either. I also know that he’s had to attend the funeral of every elderly person we had at our nursing home and that with each funeral it drove all of us a little madder. Perhaps that is why I revel in my youth so extremely–to fight the inevitable.

So I’m letting it go. Writing this entry has been healing. I see now that anything else would be futile. I can only be there for those I love and that is what I am now determined to do.

 

Bring him home, a son’s promise

So my friend’s father has been in a battle with brain cancer. He was in Washington State for some holistic treatments when things turned worse and he was taken to a hospital. He has been there for about a month.

It was touch and go for a while, but now the doctors think he’s healthy enough to be able to fly back to Maryland. The bad news is the health insurance company won’t pay for he $22,000 cost of the flight back. If he doesn’t come back home the hospital is going to discharge him to a less-than reputable nursing home.

Not only does Kenton Shin need to come home, but his loving wife and children also need to be back home. They have put their own lives on hold and stayed by his side this whole time.

The mother of my friend is going to use the last of her retirement savings toward the flight but there will still be a good sum unpaid. They have 10 days to pay it after the flight.

I’ve been following the amazing story of this family for months. While I don’t have anything near enough to pay the bill, I’m going to be sending them a little something.

So here’s what I have to say.

Enough with this mentality that people need to help themselves. It’s time for us as humans to show we are better than that. They need help paying the bill, and I think we should each put something in to help. Go without your starbucks coffee for a week and use that money to help them. You get the idea.

I recommend you check the blog out and decide for yourself whether you can pitch in a little. Details of how to donate are on the blog. Every dollar will help.

Here is a snippet from John Shin’s blog yesterday that brought me to tears:
“I helped my mother view her finances online, and it turned out that the only way to free up such a large amount of capital was to basically deplete what was left of her retirement savings account. That really broke my heart. . .

She gave me a smile and said that she could just work harder and earn more money. We both knew, however, that she didn’t have too many working years left.

Later in the evening, . . . I stood next to my father’s bed for a while and just watched him breathe. And then I began to talk to him. I told him not to worry about the bills, the finances, the house, or anything, because I would take care of everything.

I told him to just concentrate on getting better. I then held his hand tightly, blinked away my tears, and promised him that, above all, no matter what happened to him, I would take care of my mother. That was a promise. I’m not sure if my father heard me or not. I like to think that he did. But in the end it doesn’t matter, because it felt more like a promise to myself than to him.

As I grow accustomed to living in a world without my father, I’m starting to see that the end of this chapter in my father’s life will mark the beginning of a new one in mine.”