Such has been my routine for almost two weeks now. The flu never comes at a good time. But it came at an especially bad time for this harpist-singer.
I had to play at a wedding last Friday. Everything was fine until I had a coughing fit during the psalm, but the guests sang on and I managed to play to the end. The sweet bride told me everything was still beautiful. Oh, how nice.
I had a booth at the Mankato Bridal Show last Saturday. Handed out hundreds of fliers and business cards to hundreds of brides, played Canon in D for hours on end.
And then, on Monday, I played at the funeral of my friend Lisa, who "went to Heaven" as her mother told me, last Wednesday. I was so worried that I'd not be able to sing How Great Thou Art and O Holy Night, as Lisa requested. I was terrorized by the memory of that coughing fit at that wedding last Friday. My voice had to hold out. I had to make it through, for Lisa and her family. I had to.
So I did lots of gentle practicing in the days leading up to the funeral. Got lots of rest, drank gallons and gallons of tea, took everything my wonderful pharmacist put in my cart.
Harry helped with the practicing. Oh, good kitty.
I decided I would be just fine. Everything would be fine. My voice would be fine, I would play just fine. And everything was coming along just...fine...
...until Lisa's mom brought this over to my house
the day before the funeral.
It's a gift basket Lisa got for me at a benefit four days before she died. She'd texted me allllll day long about getting me one, I texted back with "no, you don't have to do that," she texted back with, "yes, I'm going to anyway." And she did. It wasn't even noon when Lisa's mom dropped it off. I popped the cork anyway and poured a glass to honor Lisa and to stop the tears that I knew would flow and stuff me up and cause a coughing fit.
The funeral on Monday WAS fine. My voice did hold out. My harp sang and put forth that beauty and healing that only it can do. I felt it change the atmosphere in the church. I didn't cough. I didn't cry. I did my job. I did it. But I've been so sad ever since. At the loss of Lisa. At the loss of a friend. At the unfairness and ugliness of cancer. All of it.
But Harry came to the rescue again.
He flapped his tail right into my face the night of the funeral
and he kept it there for an hour.
Oh, good kitty.
Oh, goodbye, Lisa. I'll miss you, my friend.