A Personal Note on ... Music on the Staff of Life

Years ago when I was in my teens, I was under contract to an agency in New York City, but when this branch of the agency, based in England, left the United States, I allowed my contract with them to run out, to state that simply. Still, each week, I continued to perform in a club, or two, in Greenwich Village. One evening I was approached by a producer for the program, to write and perform a song it.  I wrote and performed  RACE WITH THE WIND  on Wide World of Sports, for the International Moto-cross Championships from Pepperell, Massachusettes.

During the time I was working as an independent, for this company, based on Nob Hill in California, I heard a  recording by a man whose voice filled me with something akin to the touch of an angel. This producer had asked me to listen to it and tell him what I thought of it. I was near speechless, as sometimes there are just no words to truly convey how something touches you. It was in my mind for hours after... He told me his name was JOHN DENVER and said he was going to be working with him, since he had been part of a group, THE CHAD MITCHELL TRIO,  but was now going out on his own to make an album. From time to time I heard more about what he was doing.

Around that time, I was, also, told that the record company that had signed him also wanted me. But... well, to make a long story shorter, after I recorded my song, and it aired on ABC TV in December of 1969, my life took a turn and I was unable to perform as I had.

 It was a while after that before I finally heard his voice again... as his song about the mountains rode the airwaves on stations coast to coast. Of course, I purchased his album, and it was one of my all-time favorites. I watched him on every TV program he was a part of, and loved his performance in a movie about GOD! It was always a great inspiration to me during difficult times. And through the years I continued to hear things about him, not just in the mainstream, but through word of mouth through people who knew people I knew. Somehow, the more I heard, the more I felt I had known him somewhere before, but I didn't mention it, because there was no way we could have really known one another in THIS lifetime... But it was a dream of mine to, one day, be able to perform with him, even if only on one project...

... but that wasn't to be...

Life moved on... I married and had two sons who also loved his music. When they were in their teens, I went through  divorce. It was a difficult passage so, all summer of 1997, I kept referring to that movie more than I had at any other time. My sons and I talked about it to their friends as well. It gave us peace and happiness. We had hoped to share it,on a gathering, but we never got to do that, for one reason or another.

One, warm, Saturday that autumn, there was an Air Show at the Airport nearby.... to the southwest of where we lived, only  a few short miles away. Planes of all kinds had filled the sky for hours the day before, but this day, there was narry a sound in the early afternoon when I went outside to rake leaves. There wasn't even the usual sound of traffic on the highway, not far away, the sounds of people coming and going, or even birds singing... only a gentle ruffling of autumn leaves. The whole world seemed to be at peace that day, and everything was bathed in a golden/orange light such as I had never seen before. It was like the eye of a storm, not only because of this silence, but for me, in my life, as well. I felt such a peace that I wished it could last forever. The golden/orange glow seemed to fill my soul with something of a Promise.

I raked slowly, thoroughly enjoying the experience. I put the leaves in a little pile to burn some, but as the breezes were so slight, it, burned slowly. Like a stick of incense it's fragrance waifed out on the air, ever so lightly  to the northwest, mingling with the scents of warm autumn leaves, pine, and ripening apples and berries. I watched as the little stream of grey smoke rose up like a ribbon, swirling gently as it trailed upward.

Suddenly, I saw a little, white, airplane approaching it from the west. With a sence of horror I noticed that the little waif of grey smoke had turned as dark as coal. A rush of fear ran through me... I grew concerned that it might cause an accident if it interfered with the pilot's visibility. Suddenly, I felt filled with terror and felt my heart sink in my chest. I could "see" this plane crashing...and I feared I had something to do with it... but as I watched, it seemed to be toying with it... like two skilled dancers in a beautifully correographed dance.

As I watched, without notice, the plane was coming straight toward me... but where was the sound of an engine? There had been NONE. Although I can't say for certain, it must have been a glider... but at such a low altitude? As it got closer, it went from being upright to turning on it's side, just briefly... dipping a wing to me? And with that, as if from a dream, I heard a voice call my name...saying, "I'm going soon, but before I do, I wanted to see you and to tell you  not to be sad when you hear of my passing. I'm sorry we never had the chance to sing together, but there will be other times. " With this, I felt a wave of love surround me; a joyous feeling ... I could sence the pilot was smiling... enjoying  his freedom, his bliss...

I blinked to clear the mist that had gathered in my eyes, and when I looked up again, the plane had vanished...  Although I felt a sorrow that welled up inside me as if my heart would break, I felt a great sence of  release that goes beyond words, and a joy that sings in the soul so deep that it cannot be heard or expressed ...

As I stood there looking at the empty sky, I wondered what this meant... and who that could have been. I turned to look to the south, wondering if I might hear the sound of a plane ( there was none ) ... and beheld enormous billowing clouds as if from some master's painting...  Light blue-grey on the bottom, golden-orange, then rosey- orange, with billows of pure white and edges of pure gold... It was SO beautiful that I didn't want to take my eyes off it... I felt that I was looking up at  a Heavenly version of The Rocky Mountains ...

Less than a month later came the news of his passing... I felt as if a little black ribbon of smoke had severed a little, white, plane from the earth ... Silence filled my heart where his songs had been... and yet, I felt a Promise.

My sons and their friends were the ones who delivered this news to me, done with love, which couldn't have been better... No doubt they will remember it well... I had told them about this... and they knew that I had known...

And now, as then, whenever I feel the world pressing me and feel in need of a loving touch, a beautiful voice to scerenade my soul, and raise me up on wings, I have but to turn on my computer and listen to him sing.... IT AMAZES ME...  he is FLYING FOR ME... he is flying for US


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<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

PS...  it sure does raise a few questions about who we are, why things happen as they do, and life itself , doesn't it?

LOVE IS THE OPEN DOOR

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ENDINGS... It seems that the only time loss isn't terribly painful is when we are casting off something we do not want in favor of something better for us. Of course if it means leaving people, places we love, behind, it is painful none-the-less. It is less painful when there is the hope that we may return one day, even if only to visit. But there are many kinds of painful losses we all experience... from losing a loved one, to seeing something we created destroyed, or losing our ability to do something we once did with joy, etc.

At least, these days, as far as loved ones who move away are concerned, we can keep in touch via telephones and the internet, as well as letters.... but that wasn't always so. In the past, many times people left and never saw or heard from one another again.... even though both were alive in different areas of the world.


>>>>> When my father passed on, I missed him for more reasons than I can ever recount, but when I thought of him as having gone to another land, still alive but without mail service, phones or the internet, it eased my pain. I knew that he didn't want to leave us, but we all know that it is something that is inevitable.

It's not the same thing as having someone demand that a loved one go fight in a war, or having been abducted. This departure may be one of our choosing or due to something beyond our control, but it will happen in due time... and to those left behind, there is never a good time, unless perhaps we see that one suffering by staying here, knowing it won't get better for them.

BUT even knowing that life is eternal and that we will meet again, doesn't help when we feel a need for their assistance or advice, or just being able to sit and speak with them about wonderful things that only they can share with us, from their experiences... but that is so even when a dear friend moves far away. These days many have the internet, with pictures and videos to enable us to share in the lives of ones we love who are far from us... but they aren't HERE... and we miss them.

When someone leaves, especially suddenly, without warning, it taunts the mind, and we seek something to fill the void; something that shows us they were really here and that part of them remains as real as ever... that they didn't just vanish into thin air, as if they were merely a figment of our imagination. Wandering, desperately seeking that familiar comfort, bewildered and disoriented, we seek to remember those familiar things about them that gave us a sence of belonging... of security... of joyous familiarity and comfort.

The worst thing about death is the finality of it, for even if we do meet again, somewhere in eternity... they aren't here now, and we have no way of communicating with them, or sharing in experiences... at least, not as we are used to....

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>>>>>Many years ago, I had a dream wherein I was on a long ride with my young sons, father, mother and my younger brother. We came to New Orleans where my grandmother, who had passed on several years before, was now living... to the south.

She greeted us and showed us how she was being provided for now. She wasn't wearing her glasses and said that that was something she need not be concerned about any longer, for now she had perfect vision and was able to do her needlework much more easily; and she no longer was plagued by her arthritis and other ailments... though she looked pretty much as I had remembered seeing her as an elderly woman.

Her room was bright and sunny, with draperies and bedding of a rose colour satin. ( Her favourite colour ) There were hanging plants here and there... and African Violets which she had always loved, and even potted trees. She had always loved tending to flowers and plants in and around her home. There were food vending machines that she said she was given tokens for every day, and with them she could get whatever she wanted, of the soups, salads and such that were offered... "A great variety, and all very good!" she said. She was delighted with this fast food service, as she said it gave her more time for other things she loved to do... baking being among them. She was free to come and go as she pleased, however... to venture forth wherever she chose to go.

I started to introduce her to my sons, who were preschoolers at the time, one of whom she had held just prior to her passing, and the other having been born soon after she passed. But she looked at each of them and said yes, she knew who they were... and she smiled first at one, and the the other, saying their names. She said that just because she was there didn't mean she wasn't aware of what was happening in our lives, and that she was still very much a part of them... more than we might be aware of.

At one point, my mother and sons went to get some kind of nosh from the vending machines, and were also delighting in using them. At this time, my grandmother took me aside. She said she had wanted us to come because she was concerned for my father. She said she wanted him to know that she was still there... alive. She wanted him to know she loved him, and that in his depression he could not see her. Indeed, he was sitting in a booth at the rear of the room, staring at a wall that was paneled halfway up. He seemed oblivious... deep in thought. ( For a long time, my father had been depressed missing her. ) She said she knew how close we were and that she wanted to get a messege to him and would I help her do that? I said I would, but HOW? She merely perked up when I said I would, and looked at me, with a glistening smile in her eyes, that said that was all she needed to know.

In a short time, my mother and sons and I were sitting on padded bench seats at the table in the rear of the room. They were telling me about the vending machines, all excitedly. My father continued to sit there, thoughtfully staring at that wall...

After a bit more time, we were ready to go... and stood in the doorway hugging and smiling at one another... telling her how much we had enjoyed visiting her and how we would come see her again sometime. She said we were always welcome. ( I don't recall where my brother had gone to... but suddenly he reappeared as well. )

Her final jesture was to hand my mother a package of BROWNIES she had made... something we had always associated with her... saying " You have a long drive ahead of you and someone may get hungry along the way."

In a short time we were waving adieu, and feeling wonderful about our visit.



I awoke from this dream feeling that is was something more than a mere dream. I dashed to the phone and called my mother. No sooner had I begun relating it to her when she interrupted me. She said that my father had just gotten up and seemed very restless. It was earlier than he had gotten up in some time, on a Saturday morning. She wanted to be sure he was alright.

She called me back in a few minutes, but during that time, my older son had dashed out to tell me about this dream he had just had of a long drive we had taken to a place far away, and who-all was there. He said we went to see this old lady... I asked if he knew who she was, He said he didn't but was amazed and bewildered, as he said, " But she knew who I was mom "...

In a moment my mother called me back. She seemed very concerned now. She said my father was roaming about the house as if he was in a daze and she was feeling that she might better call for an ambulance or something. Again she said she'd call me back in a few minutes.

This time, no sooner had I hung up the phone than my younger son, around 3 years old, came out of his room all smiles and babbling excitedly about this wonderful dream he had had... and in one long excited sentence, related almost the exact same experience as my other son and I had had. I asked him to describe the old lady for me... and he did... to a T... finally, breathlessly, asking, "Mommie, who was that nice old lady? " Smiling, I said, "Boys, THAT was Granny!" ( Later they were shown a picture, and identified her as the one they had seen in the dream," but without the glasses, Mom." )

In a few minutes, my mother called back once more. She said my father was saying that he felt he was supposed to go somewhere. He felt he was to head for New York City... to the south of where we lived. He said he had to go... and asked her to come along. She, then asked me if WE wanted to come. I said YES, and in half an hour they were picking us up and we were heading south. (About all I had had the chance to tell her was that my sons and I had had a remarkable dream about Granny... none of the details. There was this flurry of activity.)

The sun was shining brightly. It was a beautiful day. My father was quiet, and my sons were talking about things they were seeing along the way. I began to tell my father of this dream we had had... but got a look from my mother like it was best not to mention that just now.

We drove on and one of my sons said he was hungry. We hadn't had breakfast. My father ( who used to drive to The City on business a lot ) said there was a B. King not too far up ahead... in Tarrytown, near Sleepy Hollow. We would stop there.

Not long after, we were in there and Dad went to sit down. My mother, sons and I were at the counter ordering lunch when my mother suggested I go sit with my father while they got the food. So, I did. I don't remember just what prompted me, but I began to tell him of the dream, and how the three of us had had what seemed to be the same dream. I told him the story pretty much as I have related it here... with the final line being, about the BROWNIES.

No sooner had I finished saying that... when, with narry a breath of a pause, my mother, who had dashed back to the counter for napkins and straws and seemed to be lingering a little long, returned saying, " Sorry I took a little longer than planned... but I got some BROWNIES to bring along. WE HAVE A LONG DRIVE AHEAD OF US AND SOMEONE MAY GET HUNGRY ALONG THE WAY."

My father suddenly looked up at me, and I turned and looked him in the eyes. We stared at one another for a long moment, and my mother, paused and stared at us, saying, " What did I say?! What just happened?!"

Still looking him in the eye, I turned, excitedly saying, "DAD!! LOOK AROUND US!!! B.KING IS THE VENDING MACHINES! THE BOYS WERE WITH MOM GETTING THE FOOD TOGETHER! WE'RE SITTING IN A BOOTH TO THE REAR OF THE BUILDING, WITH PLANTS AROUND US! YOU WERE JUST STARING AT THE DIVIDER WALL WHICH IS WOOD HALF THE HEIGHT OF THE ROOM! ... "

Dad and I looked one another in the eyes once again, as I slowly reached out to hand him a BROWNIE, saying "Eat up dad... IT'S FROM YOUR MOTHER."
( It all fell into place... except ... where had my brother fit in? That came some time later when I learned that my OLDER brother had paintings in a place in New Orleans... so both of my brothers were represented in this )

We continued on southward, spending a beautiful, happy day, in Manhatten. My father, who had been so thoughtful, for so long,was suddenly whistling his spritely little tunes again.... alert, alive, and loving life!

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* In closing I'd like to add one more odd and interesting fact. We have asked many people, including people who had worked at a B.King, in this state and others, if they ever ate or sold a BROWNIE in a B.KING..., and they all looked at us oddly, and they ALL said" No... B.KING never sold BROWNIES! "... well... THIS ONE DID!

>>>>>and it all happened because LOVE is FOREVER... and knows NO boundaries! Although I didn't know how to get her messege to him, SHE knew... and all I had to do was AGREE! >>> LOVE IS THE OPEN DOOR... LOVE IS THE WAY ==============* = ) ========!===========here have a brownie===========love is goood ! ============================

A mother's love goes beyond

(* Originally written and posted here just before Mother's day this year, 2011.)

Although it's not about my mother, it's something I'd like to share ... something strange but beautiful to ponder no matter who you are, or what time of year it may be...
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Years ago now, I used to go to an agency where I spoke to several people, and one woman in particular always seemed to catch my attention. As I'd sit waiting for my appointment, I'd keep glancing over at her. There was SOMETHING about her... I spoke to her a few times, but not about anything personal. Perhaps it was because she was always very pleasant, really knew how to laugh, and made the people around her smile. But in time, I didn't go there anymore... and that was that...

Time passed, my sons grew older and the younger one joined the Army, on the delayed entry program. The Gulf War began shortly before he actually went in. At that time, he was going back and forth to The City with a friend they'd both known for a long time. Both were interested in photography and taking courses in it at college, as I recall, so they went for photo shoots. Often the three of them, and sometimes other friends as well, got together after work as well. I knew him through my sons, but I'd never spoken to or been introduced to his mother.

One day while I was visiting my sons, ( as they shared a place of their own by now ) the phone rang and I answered it. ( They had gone to the diner not long before.) It was his mother. She'd just had an operation and wondered where he was. She needed his help with some chores. I said they went to get something to eat, and would be back soon, and I'd tell him.


Although we'd never had a conversation before, we got to talking like we'd known one another for years, for about an hour. She just felt the need to talk to someone at that time and apologized, a couple of times for "bending my ear", as she called it. I assured her that it was not like that. AND that I actually had the time right now, and really enjoyed talking to her too... I said that I hoped we'd get a chance to talk again soon ... She agreed.

I was looking forward to it ...

But, sad to say, not long afterward, she passed on and I didn't get to speak to her again. Still, I felt good that we had had such a meaningful conversation that one time. It meant a lot to me too, because when her son came to talk to me one evening, I was able to tell him some of the conversation we'd had. It brought us a kind of closeness we had not shared before, as well. It bridged something when he felt this need to talk about her and what he was feeling, as her condition relapsed and the prognosis wasn't good.

My Army son was to be a pallbearer on that sad occasion that followed. My older son and I attended the all-day wake, with him. I sat on the sidelines talking to their friends, watching unfamiliar faces pass ... then one or two I recognized ... from the agency I'd gone to. ( Not long before this I learned that she had worked there as well. )

As evening was coming on, I suddenly felt weary and in need of the cool even ing air. So I wandered out to sit on the porch, alone, in the quiet of the countryside, for a while. It was warm, and a gentle breeze was blowing the little American flags that were attached to lightpoles along the road there. There were few cars passing. The sun was setting and the daytime fragrances were giving way to the cool, nighttime ones [ It seemed strange to think that my son would soon be going overseas, and I wondered what was ahead for him ... yet I felt peaceful ]

After a while, a young woman that I'd met before, and her mother, came out. Leaning over toward me, they were saying something about my son going into the Army ( wishing him well) I looked up at them, feeling rather sleepy. To be polite, I stood up, and as I did so, I felt strangely disoriented and said something that struck even ME oddly! In fact I was listening to myself speak and thinking, "why am I saying this ? "

Unexpectedly, I felt something welling up inside me as I asked her to " ... look after *****, I'm concerned about him. He's been keeping so much inside. "

This woman smiled and assured me she would, adding that she worked with him every day (which I didn't know until then. ) As they turned to go, she gave me a rather odd look, which was understandable, I suppose. I'm sure I wasn't really making sence, trying to hold what felt like two conversations at once, while trying to understand what had come over me. I was, also, thinking that it was just a very emotional time, so much to fathom all at once, and it had been a long day ... hmmmm... but somehow that wasn't quite IT...

I went back inside to look for my sons, as people were beginning to leave. But still I felt as though I was in a kind of dream. Noone was near me, yet I seemed to be being prompted, gently prodded, to go look at the photos of her on a display on the far side of the room... like> " do it NOW! " in a vague sort of whisper. Slowly, I walked over to it, and in a moment, I made the connection; This was the woman who had always drawn my attention ... the one who knew how to laugh, and made others around her smile! I HAD met her before!

I suddenly felt a smile come across my face, and a little laugh ... I found my sons speaking to her son and daughter. AS I looked him in the eyes, I said, " I remember her! I'd met her before, but I didn't know it until now!" A little misty-eyed and slightly choked-up, he turned to his sister and said "SHE remembers Mom; she knew her too!! " ... Might I add that in that moment, he was smiling, and so was his sister...

I glanced over at the lady in the red dress, sleeping, and felt her smiling back > from among us

I never got to tell them this story, because things moved so fast for a while after this, and on the few other occasions since then, it just never seemed appropriate...

Perhaps they will read this now... and perhaps there's a reason for it coming now ... rather than sooner ...

... and if you are, there's one more thing I have to add that I never told anyone ...

... She wants you to know> she STILL loves you VERY much* = )

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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

" that house likes children "

If you just LOVE a ghost story, here's one for YOU....

... a true story...

"To begin with," said the woman , " I lived in an old farm house in New Jersey years ago. It was on a highway, but there were farmer's fields all around it. There were a few houses scattered here and there. It was a bit too far to walk to town, and I didn't have my own car then. But sometimes I spoke to the neighbors who lived close by... the few there were. So I was really pleased when a friend I'd known for most of my life, came to visit me.

It was a sunny day, We were sitting in the kitchen at the table having a nice conversation when suddenly I felt I was falling down something with straight sides all slimy, on some kind of stonework, a musty sort of smell, like mosses. I couldn't get a hold!! A WELL! "

My friend said I gasped and she saw me go white and my eyes got a distant look.
I remember she was very concerned and I heard her say my name; then... ' are you alright? What's happening? '

In a moment I came to, so to speak, shaking. I told her I felt I was falling down a well. I was suddenly very antsy and stood up. I told her, ' I think there's a well under the floor here in the kitchen! '

She asked me if I could sence where it was. I walked gingerly over to front of the stove. Again I felt I was falling down the well. I jumped back trembling.


Winter came and the pipes under the floor froze. For a couple of days I had to get water from the bathroom. Then a warm spell came and I could hear water running in the crawl space under the floor. My husband, at the time, and his brother went to fix the break.

They came up telling me there WAS a cistern under the floor just where I said it was. There was a hole in the side of it and he'd thrown a pebble into it. He counted the time it took to hit water. From that he said it must have gone about 40 feet before it hit water...


From time to time after that I heard the voice of a little girl at the top of the stairs in this old farmhouse, calling out " Maa mee...... MAA mee". Others heard it too a couple of times and I hadn't mentioned it to them. They told me how it sounded... exactly as I had heard it.


[ Even after we moved out the next people who lived there told me about all kinds of things that happened there. I don't recall them saying they heard the voice. There were things like light bulbs burning out and being replaced only to have them glow too brightly at times and burn out again soon after. They had an electrician check it out and there was no reason for it. Eventually that stopped, but other things happened.]

Soon after we'd moved in, this old woman who lived nextdoor, for no reason I could think of, just blurted out that she'd lived there all her life, and that that house liked children. It made no sence to me, so I forgot about it.

After that happened, I mentioned it to her, and she said " I TOLD you ... that house likes children . " She was cryptic like she knew something but wasn't going to tell me. I didn't press her about it. It was creepy the way she smiled and looked me in the eye looked when she said it that time. To be honest, I was more creeped out by her than by the entity there.

The entity never gave me any real trouble... but did make her presence known at other times, too.

Another instance was when my dog was asleep on the floor beside me day when he suddenly got up and began sniffing like he was one trail of a scent. He never did that before or after that. He was an Irish Wolfhound. He was like cat when they're following a piece of string that someone has layed in a wavy pattern around things in a house and is tugging at. He was so frantic, eyes shiny, and so mezmerized that he didn't even seem to hear me telling him to come to me. He even bumped into the wall and the cellar door before suddenly stopping by the entrance to the kitchen, near the cellar door, and looking at me, tongue hanging out, out of breath, puzzled.

Then there was this thing with the front door... I had a young child ... 2 or 3 years old at the time. The house was a very short distance from a very busy highway, with tractor trailers included, and I was concerned about someone coming in the front door, or him opening it, even though it had a deadbolt that I kept locked unless I went to sit on the porch for a bit. One day I heard it click as I was passing by. I tried to turn the deadbolt to open it, but it wouldn't budge. My husband tried it too.

Over a period of time we both would go and try to open it, but it wouldn't budge. I think he got the knob on the deadbolt to move but the door still didn't open. One day less than a week before we moved out, I was passing it again and heard the same click... and the door opened. Perhaps she was looking out for us...

... after all ... the old woman had said ' That house LIKES children.' "




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