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Categories: celebrant musings


I’ve been singing Threshold Choir music in preparation for an organizing meeting next week.  My brain is one of those that holds earworms.  I can’t get the music to stop—it’s always playing.  When I was younger I thought perhaps this was a symptom of mental illness.  Now that I know others experience the same phenomenon, I am more accepting of the trait.  This time my brain is playing spiritual, beautiful songs designed to be sung to folks at life’s threshold.

Singing them brings back memories of my parents and their deaths.  My dad and I sat in a garden at his hospice setting and had one of those “last talks”.  I was not present during his decline or death.  My mother and brother took that role and I know now that I missed out on something by not being there with him.  I’m eternally grateful for their efforts and love.

The reason I know what I missed is that I was blessed to be present with my brother and his daughter-in-law for my mother’s passing.  I had sung to her in the days before her death.  Songs and lullabies came as I cradled her in my arms.  Now I will be able to sing those for others.

I pray for guidance and focus as our Threshold Choir begins.  May I adequately share the depth of spirit contained in this work with others who come to try out this unique experience.