In memory of me…
I’m thinking I need to start a piece for a former teacher of mine, who recently passed. It’s a strange and difficult thing to be thinking about, since a part of me doesn’t want to believe he’s dead; another part keeps sending off emails, forgetting; and the other part still hurts. Because of my exams and the headspace required for them, I’m just now coming to terms with it. You find someone dear to you, and you think they’re going to be around forever.
There’s another loss I’m thinking of lately. Since I’m ABD, the formal composition study I had is ending. I know all relationships eventually end, but it’s a bit melancholy. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions, but I miss the debate and fellowship that came from private instruction. But this is the natural order of things. People grow to leave home, and every birth contains within it a death.
These people aren’t far away, though. Whenever I compose something, it feels like they’re with me and are a part of me. Their presence is no less real and strong, even if they aren’t around physically. A Benedictine once described ritual as a kind of prayer you do for others when they’re not able, and when the time comes, they do the same for you. I don’t see composition as being that much different. I know these people were carrying me, when I couldn’t work. Now I’m blessed to be able to do the same.