the band played on and on and then anon i was summoned by four non blondes … asking such a simple question… which has such a simple response

Not enough… and yet so much….

I have always pondered why we funrasie - oh sorry funD raise for cancer as it seems to be doing just fine on it's own. Fundraising for a tax receipt i get… cibc  is not much different than cnib… except that one likely makes a profit and the other hopefully a difference. (Suddenly singing Carole King in my head) 

As i walked the room and became more relaxed  - good music does that to one's soul if you let it - as does giving in to the moment, and allowing what is happening to just happen even if it is just a moment's pleasure - 

Kelly. Self talk again. "BE present. The tapestry in this room is home woven. Listen." 

And so i began to roam - as goats do - the room - to find a place where i could  see and hear the band - which i soon realized was not home grown but an eclectic  mix of artists from many cities and many  places, somehow sewn together in this …. this incredible temporary  translucent fabric that cloaked us all from all that is October...

​and all of whom had a different sound and voice….and as i  was taught by so many of my students  - to listen - to really hear - 

if we all have the same voice - there is no harmony - 

The all ages and stages ( kinston pun intended) of life in the room, from seven to seventy - from straight to wait - i do not know yet - from walk to run  - from been there done that - not yet but i will - had all found a thread. We were seaminly connected. 

​However the grasp  i had on the corner of my comfy cabernet quilt quickly unravelled  all over hell's half acre - when i saw  - way over yonder - and then heard one of my mother's  most cherished and beloved friends  - call out my name..  and my brain recited  - i 'll come running to see you again… The earth did not move under my feet - but my feet sure hustled - suddenly i had four of them - three left -  and i was a sprinting spastic kitten  - entangled in ball of my own life long wool.

Red wool. LIke my mom used to to try and make me mittens with. Itchy wool -  the kind that makes your skin itch and your eyes burn.

Mine flooded with tears. What sense of the floor i had worked earlier faded beneath me and i floated into her arms as if i was still the 23 year kid who found her so many years ago feet up -  on the hospital bed - reading gently to my mother - who had but days to live - ' Do not go gently into that dark night...'

is what i have imagined she was reading… as i replay and loop that  in my head - but i do not know as i stopped  in the hospital hallway, hid and slid down the wall around the corner from her room - i tried to listen but i did not know how…the sounds of my sadness, my rib racking sobs suppressed the sounds of their soulful friendship and thus i slipped away - ashamed i had not broken my own spine - and carried the burden of that memory - 

Until this night  

When my flushed face spewed the story and smeared  it thru mascara with the grace of a wet inked tabloid tossed in the middle of a rain soaked street - right in the middle of a fabulous frenzied final set -  right in the middle of Mary Anne stuffing a bouquet of flowers the size of " i cannot see you"  -  in the middle of me pleading - please - "Will you read to me if i'm dying? " and smack dab in the muddle of me being called by Jenica to the stage… for… called to the stage? 

"Hey - I said Hey!? What's going on??" 

Wipe your eyes - pass off the bouquet. Fix your jacket. Adjust your scarf. Kelly you know exactly what is going on…. 4 non blondes.. 25 years… a great big hill …. a revolution ….. a curtain call  - a swan song and indeed you've got a friend.  

Jenica being the class act she always is - had the band play one of my favourite songs - since ever - which i always ask for - and heckle for - but this time i did not get to just sit and listen. 

This time i had to realize it actually has been almost 25 years since my mother died of the very disease i am now fighting - and i had to come up on stage and add my pitchy loud off key but in tune with moment  voice to this night and to join the enormous chorus of people of who know - 

like my Mom always used to sing - 

​You have to get up every morning with a smile on your face……..  because attitude does matter - 

and to join those who realize and live as -  my beloved Liza always sings - 

i will still love you - 

​No body gets tomorrow.


​