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remember your song

1/23/2014

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I have a friend who once said to me “always remember YOUR song”.  I looked at her and said “And, it I forget it, will you promise to remind me what it is?”
I called her last week. I told her that I remembered what my song was, but I couldn’t remember the tune or the words. I was crushed. I was beaten down. I was devastated. I was weary.
She listened. She didn’t say a word. She let me pour out my soul until it was empty. Empty of the hurts of words misunderstood; of unintentionally hurting a friend with no realization  the power my words and what they can mean to different people; or how words I speak are sometimes said without thinking they could have double meaning; she listened to me with  my gut wrenching; of the frustration of not knowing ‘who/what’ I would wake up with as I deal with a super-glued body; of my husband being right (again) that I haven’t come to the point of acceptance that this is how it will be for me; that I need to go back to my song and rework some of the measures, because life will continue to change.
I realized I was focusing on a song that was not of the genre I write in. My focus was not on the tune or the beat and measures that usually flow easily. My anger was rising, on a day when I didn’t  know ‘who/what’ I woke up to, that morning, wondering if I would be able to go on.
I sat crumpled on the stairs, my cheeks streaked with tears, my breath coming in gulps. Still my friend listened silently. For a while it seemed like the phone line was dead as neither of us spoke.
Then I stood up on the stairs and looked outside at the mountains out the windows. The “Big One”, one of our favorite eagles soared on a thermal. Suddenly, I knew not only my song, but I could hear the tune. Some of the words were missing. No…. they weren’t missing, they were rearranged, and in their place was a pause – a rest. And I remembered from my piano lesson days that a rest is part of the music. Foolishly, I thought I had come to the end of my song, instead, a rest, a pause had been inserted.
While I was fighting having to slow down, to pause, feeling angry that there was nothing I could do for the moment to repair the damage of words spoken, I had overlooked the pause that would make the tune flow. While I was rebelling against a body I had no control over, I disregarded that slurring over the rest/pause would change the key.
I know my song.  I remember the tune.  I am grateful for a friend who listens, even when the arrangement needs to get rearranged a bit so that the song can soar to the heavens.
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    Care Tuk is a nationally known speaker, educator, and retreat/workshop leader. She has been a school, hospital, and home health occupational therapist for more than 30 years. She has been named as a Top Business Woman in America and recognized for her work with youth, disability outreach and awareness, and the American Cancer Society. 

    Care lives in Alaska with her husband Bill. 
    Their family live nearby.

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