If you think a topic is taboo or awkward, you might be right. Do you walk away? Or face uncomfortable realities?
My matron of honor lived a glorious, artistic life. She left the planet more conscious of the smallest beautiful details of the world than most of us.
In a phone call, she told me, “Crow, the hardest part is that no one acknowledges that I’m dying.” Her frustration was that her friends were busy saying nice things, “Oh, you can beat this.” Or “The doctors don’t know everything.”
None of us had the nerve to say, “I love you. You are precious to me. I’m sad to see you reaching the end of your days.” Her ashes were taken to the most amazing spots on the globe.
At a shrine in Peru, I felt her memory and smiled.
So, honest y’all, I’m not being morbid. I’m tapping myself (and maybe you) on the shoulder. I promise to never avoid acknowledging the journey we all will face.
In 2007 or 2008, I got to be part of a fabulous wild women songwriters’ retreat. We’d come to know each other through teaching at SummerSongs songwriting camps. The events were always intense and student-centered, as they should have been.
What was missing was time for the instructors’ play and bonding, other than one late-night spontaneous skinny dip. Penny Nichols and I had battled cancer and joked about our physical modifications and uncertain futures.
Later that year, the wild women retreat was initiated. Every bit as significant as nudging students to express themselves was the camaraderie of the instructors. We met at a lovely big farmhouse waaaaay out in the country. There was room for each of us to have privacy as well as time to collaborate. We co-wrote songs like crazy, laughed, and hugged often. I wish we’d kept track of all of that creative abundance. I would list everyone there and the songs they finished. (Perhaps the other participants will want to talk about their experiences.)
Penny Nichols and I talked late into one night and addressed the reality of everything being connected— as a concept of comfort and transition for those we love at the time we each pass on. I’m so glad we went “there” and wrote “The Air We Breathe”. She recorded our song on her next album, “The 8 Voyages of Nep”. The resonance of her voice and expression lives on my list of marvels. I will forever be grateful for this song….
Penny passed on three years ago.
- The Air We Breathe
By Penny Nichols and Crow Johnson Evans
You sigh, I cry
You look into my eyes
The sun goes down
let me hold you until moonrise
the words appear and vanish on the wind
how can I say goodbye
when the air we breathe once rustled through the olive trees
in the garden of Gethsemane
and returned to you and me
and returned to you and me
So close your eyes
and feel the tradewinds rise
We laughed we loved
we never thought about goodbye
The words appear and vanish on the wind
How can I say “I love you” one more time
When the air we breathe knows all the names for God
Slipping through the Buddha’s begging bowl
And moves through you and me
and moves through you and me
The words appear and vanish on the wind
How can I say I love you one more time
When the air we breathe knows all the names for God
slipping through Buddha’s begging bowl
and moves through you and me
and moves through you and me
Thank you for your interest in the CrowSpun blogs.
