Spent most of Friday in Princess Margaret Hospital with a loved one as she received world class attention and breast cancer diagnostic care -- at no additional cost (shameless plug for universal health care). I teased her that first they would have to locate her boobs before they could diagnose them. I know -- sick, dark humour I shared with my mom, developed during the years of her illness. Funny enough, my loved one and I had fun together; we laughed at the impracticality of the hospital gown, the penned directions the doctors sketched on her breasts, the variety of footwear of the other ladies; and joked about the prison-like "bling" of the plastic, yellow bracelet. In short, we made the best of our time together.
Contrast that with a return trip to the city that night to see the Carole King / James Taylor Troubadour Tour concert. I had been waiting for this night since hubby gave me the tickets a few months back for my birthday. It did not disappoint. The audience pretty much knew every song and I was careful to curb my enthusiasm and urge to sing along -- except when James Taylor sang "You've got a friend". No one could hold back and the arena vibrated with the hauntingly beautiful chorus of the audience singing his words back at him.
I got hooked on their music as teen in the seventies. While my friends were embracing rock music - Styx, Meatloaf, Queen, Boston, Peter Frampton and other bands, I was rolling along in my own little singer-songwriter folk rut. I knew the music from my uncle who sang at every family get together. He could pull the perfect song from his inventory for every occasion. He would say, "I've got a tune for you Lyn ..." and then with a twinkle in his eye, he would launch into Put another log on the fire, or lead the kids sitting wide-eyed at his feet in a rowdy rendition of Fox on the Run. Six part harmony with me singing dutifully "off key". Then we would wrap up our famjams with a sentimental sing song of Back Home Again.
The harmonies of many of the people who used to lend their voices to those sing alongs have been forever silenced, but the warmth and good feelings of those memories that fill my heart have stayed with me. Music has the power to do that ... stir up memories and feelings that we have linked to the period of time or events in our life to the songs.
Friday's concert was a trip down memory lane and left a perma-smile on my face. With hubby alongside I created another entry in the old memory book.
All this happiness and still the weekend had one more in store. Hubby and I had our dream of a peaceful retreat realized. I had a good feeling about it and for good reason. We aligned our vision and the stars aligned right along with us and voila! We have a quaint little cottage a few hours away with nothing but peace and potential in store (and maybe a little mortgage).
I never cease to be amazed at the wondrous possibilities that life has to offer. The tasty little tidbits mixed alongside with the bitter ones - but alot more good ones than bad. And it all starts with desire. Yup - life is like a mixed box of chocolates. Taste one - and if you don't like it, sneak it back and choose another!
Me being happy.