Our Music: Beauty of Form, Expression of Emotion - Harmony
By: Daniel E. Kramer
There are powerful experiences that sometimes happen in life, with which change can be brought about, with which a turn in the tides occurs. This is what happened to me recently. We opened our home to some new friends, people that it seems now we must have met long ago in another life, seemingly familiar faces from day one. Strange the feeling I get when I consider that we may have never met if it were not for one small event here or there. How is it that we may have never gotten to know one another if it were not but for chance?
Javier and Tom brought in music and revived our spirits to want to play and sing and laugh. We had many moments of joy over such a short period. In just eight days of visiting, it all took place, but it seemed more like a series of timeless flashes of happiness, mixed with insanely good conversation and of course music. Violin combined with guitar, singing mixed with laughter, all interspersed with our family’s delight. We were free for a few days to see what it was like to be the musician, to be the capable, amazing creators of sound and emotion.
Tom and Javier, before we knew very little of you both, but now we are linked in the cosmic chain of time and space. Now there is no “what if we had not met” to consider anymore; we have, and so we will be for our lives long friends and family, the extension of which there is little to no difference to me.
This last weekend we had our annual family reunion. People from all around came to visit, and some of our most favorite cousins, aunts, and uncles we here to play. My dearest and most close cousin Keven and his wife Sara came to visit as well, with their children. They had never been here to see us, and it was amazing just to watch our kids all play together; night tag, Native Americans in the marsh, disc golf, swimming, laughing, joking, sleeping all in the same room, having the kind of fun you never can forget.
My 80-year-old Uncle Ryck agreed to an interview, and over a period of 4 hours across the span of two days, Nancy and I were able to go through his life. He told us the stories, on record, of so many of the great times that he had with his father and mother, uncles and aunts, grandparents, and even great-grandparents. What he said rang true to the feeling that humans are meant to be together, commune and converse, and listen to each other’s music. What I learned was that by opening my home, my eyes, my ears, and my heart I still have so much to experience, learn, love and do in this life. With an open mind and optimistic heart there are countless nights of fun to still be had, music to still be heard and made, and people to still meet.
Chance leads me here to this screen. I should be working on projects, watering the office plants, or calling up clients to look for more work, but I simply must take this time out to talk about what just occurred. Family and friends collided into a cocktail of bliss. Happiness just exploded into a million fireballs of pleasure. Within the last ten days we have gathered all of our friends and family together to hear fantastic music, eat amazing foods, and visit for countless hours and now I am left wanting to share the un-shareable experience somehow.
Yesterday was Father’s Day, and the events all came to an end. So much had happened that I was unable to get a chance to enjoy it myself (in the traditional sense), or take my father out for lunch, but it was just fine to both him and me. My dad, just like his, and his before, seem more familiar to me now than ever, as do my sons and daughter. I was able to watch my father over the last two weeks, as visitors came and went, as people shuffled around in need of a drink or food, and he was always there to converse and make sure that all were comfortable. My father, deserves his own essay, his own book, his own trilogy, and so I will save that for another time, but let it be known, he has given all for everyone else. He has taught me to always open my doors to family and friends. It is his guitar that I now play as I learn to make my own music.
The music that was shared, he and I appreciated alike, and after it was all over, Nancy had even recorded a song with Javier and Tom, one which was edited to perfection and then sent to us last night. As we laid in bed listening to it, peace came over me. My wife’s song was all about what should be done with her when she dies, and what she has already seen and done, and how based on her short 35 years of life she has already been gifted to see so much, do so much. That is the epitome of my Father, my Uncle Ryck, Tom and Javier, all of my family that had just come and gone, and my friends from across the spectrum of life and experience. This last few hundred hours of time has united decades, maybe centuries of stories and songs, all being intertwined to meet me on my doorstep.
Walking through the refurbished family barn this morning, sitting here in a once grand building that had fallen into disrepair, I feel something special. Now having gotten the chance to interview my Uncle here, getting to hear my sons Elliott and Gideon play with Tom and Javier in this building, hearing my sister and wife sing in here, I feel granted a gift and more than blessed. All of this happening in this place that was built 135 years ago, always just a hay and grain barn, now something so different. Once what was a place to feed the animals, which in turn fed the families that are now all dead and gone, here came something alive and new. These reborn stories are what makes life interesting, and so now we wait. We wait to see our family and friends again, wait to see them so we can let them know our feelings, and yet there is a strange inability for so many of us to express our gratitude and love for one another. However, as my wife’s song says, “my friend…this is not the end…”
I give thanks today for all of the music that is in my heart and mind. My soul carries the tonal echo of my forefathers and mothers. The violin and guitar in my mind is linked to the sounds that our friends created while here, and the waves of sound that permeated this sacred ground have eternally left their mark for time to tell. Someone, somewhere, is somehow listening to these stories - forever into the abyss of time. It is with this feeling that I know we will all live on together making music, that I know that my great-great grandfather is still here with me today telling his stories, and that I know that I will be there for my great-great grandchildren someday waiting with my songs for when they need them too.
