10/30
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| Icons in Ash |
Last week in New York City, there was a week long exploration of the end of life. The organizers described their mission in this way: Reimagine End of Life is a community-wide exploration of death and celebration of life through creativity and conversation. Drawing on the arts, spirituality, healthcare, and design, we create weeklong series of events that break down taboos and bring diverse communities together in wonder, preparation, and remembrance.
My friend Heide Hatry once again exhibited her profound Icons in Ash collection of portraits made from creation remains... and as usual, accompanied the exhibit with performances by an eclectic array of music and spoken word performances.
This was my contribution.....
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| Christine Isherwood and Mike Handdelman |
When the night has come and the land is dark
And the moon the only light I see
I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand by me.
Stand by me, Oh darling stand by me..
I sang for my neighbors as they gathered in the community garden in the middle of 115th in a memorial service. When I stopped on my way to a gig earlier this afternoon, a Baptist preacher in a fine suit was rendering a prayer. When I return hours later after the gig, they're still there. Playing music, grilling food.
I sang this song for them before. At a sidewalk birthday party. In the cool of the evening on long summer nights, the folks without airconditoning gather outside our building to share food, drink and talk. The woman they celebrate, "Cuz",was part of that circle. So they ask me, "Bob with the guitar," to sing for them. That's how they know me. The only way the know me. I like that.
In my old life, death was a regular part of it. Old faithful members in their due time. Teenagers dead by the One train. Tragic and too soon. Gay men dead of AIDS, their bodies snatched away by parents who wanted to pretend their partners didn't exist. Partners now left bereft and alone. A kitchen worker from Barney Greengrass. And homeless men who died with my card in their pocket.
I always said I liked funerals as much or more as weddings. Marking a moment after which nothing would ever be the same again. Each life a complete universe of and to itself with its own interconnected planetary systems, galaxies. Narrative arcs. A world dies in each death. I always felt privileged to be present in these moments. Now in my new life, not so much.
So strange, then, this weekend to encounter it three times. In a long delayed family memorial for one also an icon in ash. The time flowing gently into an open mic. Then accompanying the ashes of a friend's wife from a Chelsea funeral home back to the Upper West Side. His wife of 37 years beside me in a simple box in an ecofriendly reusable bag. From funeral a home to Whole Foods. I place the bag on the bar stool beside him. He speaks to her. The bartender pours four shots of Hennesy, her favorite drink. We toast. And drink.
They have joined me in harmony. The stakes are high. See the woman over there, she is a real singer. She's gotta sing with you, they say...And now they want another song. What could I sing? (When I told my son about my not knowing what to sing, my son said, Dad they knew you were white when they asked you to sing..it's you they want..) So I play the song I wrote for Teddy the pipefitter, the Occupier, the guy who understood a vision so clear he'd do anything for it or me. He died in his sleep at the church. Soon surrounded by a circle of flamenco dancers from downstairs, crossing them selves with Salve Marias and Padre Nostros as his soul took flight.
Rest awhile,I said rest awhile
Come away and rest awhile
Rest awhile,I said rest awhile
Come away and rest awhile
When the crowd is so demanding and the need is so great and you feel like you just can't go on,
Then walk beside me and soon you will see the victory is already won and you can
Rest awhile...
Again they join in. Wringing every ounce of Gospel they can find from my song. Then more drinks poured. Stories told of families living on this street 50-60 years or more. Of Luigi who built this garden. And life flows on. On into the night.....
Rest awhile,I said rest awhile
Come away and rest awhile
Rest awhile,I said rest awhile
Come away and rest awhile
Stand by Me
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