Singing to Fear
Tonight I was walking upstairs to turn my son's light off before going to sleep and I heard whimpering coming from my room. I went in and my daughter was crying in my bed. I crawled in next to her and asked her what was going on. She said after some coaxing, "I am afraid to die, mommy. I wouldn't get to see you anymore." Whew. Where does this come from? That fear lives inside of all of us, even those of us who are six. Her eyes looked scared as she peered into mine, looking for safety. I prayed right in that moment, asking God to help me show up for her as best I could, as a woman who has feared dying somewhat acutely since 1995. I began to talk about the death of my father and how much I missed him but that I feel his presence often. She listened and began to calm as I told her that death is not an ending, that we will still be near to each other. She calmed even further but I knew the words were not what she needed. Even as her tears began to subside, I knew her soul and mine needed more. So, I started to sing.
A couple of weeks ago I started singing in a threshold choir. I had never heard of a threshold choir until about two months ago. This is a group of women who gather together and sing to those who are dying. They sing in other settings too; places that need a little love. But the group of women whom I joined sing at hospice. I first gathered with them around a kitchen table at Doris' house, where we shared tea and homemade apple something or other, with fresh whipped cream. It felt a bit like heaven just being there. I felt some of my own fears of death melting off my protected heart. I leaned into the woman next to me as we sang so I could keep my voice steady. She draped her arm around me and I felt like I was home. We sang for a couple of hours together, preparing to sing to the dying.
Last week was our first visit to hospice. These women inspire me. Their laughter comes from their bellies and their smiles are real. I think God led me to this circle to heal. We sing in rounds and sometimes harmony, which unbelievably I can actually do. I spent two months on my journey around the world on two lines, trying to harmonize with a student. I could never quite get it. But here, it is happening. In my yoga class yesterday, we sang harmony to Dona Nobis Pachem, twenty of us singing give us peace together. And then today, the sermon message at church was on Miriam, the prophet in the Old Testament who sings and dances truth. I think God is trying to tell me something, or at least prepare me for something. Tonight, all of this prepared me to sing with my daughter and trust it was the most healing thing I could do.
Lord to thy loving heart I come...rest my soul. Lord to thy loving heart I come...rest my soul. Namo, namo.....guru dev. A prayer to my Beloved Teacher, the guru within, the one who give me breath and invites me to sing. This is what I sang over and over to my daughter. When I stopped to catch my breath, she asked, "Momma, will you keep singing?" So I did. And my voice started to shake as I looked into her frightened eyes that look like my own, and I wept. "Momma, why does your voice sound like that?" "I am crying sweetie. Are you okay?" She nodded...and I kept singing.
Absolutely heart wrenching...and beautiful. I love your raw honesty, Jenny. Thank you for sharing your humanity with me.
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Man...that one had ME crying! Great entry...love you bunches!
jane
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I sang to a dear friend when she was in the hospital dying from cancer. She'd say, "can you sing the one about how everyone loves me again?" Her boyfriend told me later that they talked about how serious everyone else was, and how I just sang to her, and how that lightened the whole scene.
It was nice to have someone to sing to, now that my son is way too grown to want me to sing to him. What a lovely group you found!
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