A Wedding: June 2014

This very happy story began not so happily in late 2009. It was around then that I had made up my mind to leave my New England life behind and try to start a new life somewhere else. I had no idea that younger son, Matthew, was having the same thought. Obviously, the notion of remaining "home" without our Ada was anathema to both of us.

I remember that Matt came over to my Eastman condo on a Sunday afternoon. He had been living in Woodstock, VT and had been working at a local insurance company. He pretty much hated every minute of it. As a matter of fact, Matt had pretty much hated every job he ever had.

Except when he was playing music.

Starting a few months before Ada's passing, Matthew had become absolutely obsessed with his beautiful tenor saxophone. By the time he came over that Sunday he was practicing about six hours every day, trying to achieve mastery over his horn. As luck would have it, Matt played his rendition of "Blackbird" for Ada about a week before she passed. It gave her (and me) great joy.

"Dad, I'm thinking about moving to Asheville, NC. I'm going to try and make a living as a full time musician. What do you think?"

What do I think? It's almost impossible to make it as a full time musician. Especially a jazz musician. You don't have the experience. You don't have the management. You don't know the obstacles that await you. As talented and dedicated as you are, success in this field has very little to do with talent or skill. Luck has a lot to do with it and your track record with luck ain't so hot.

That's what I thought. Here's what I said:

"Go for it, Matt."

I'm quite sure that Matt would have left for Asheville no matter what I said. After all, he was a grown man when he asked, perfectly capable of defining his own life. I'm also quite sure that telling Matt to go for it was the best piece of advice I ever gave him.

Here's the short version of what happened to Matt once he moved to Asheville:

Matt started playing his horn on the very hip streets of Asheville. By doing so he met many fellow musicians. It wasn't long before he joined several of them in various musical groups. He started getting gigs at some of the local clubs. He was feeling great, confident in his abilities, and delighted to be playing with people who were serious about music. He was broke all the time, but still determined to make it as a full time musician. At some point early on he met Audrey Hagan, a lovely local Ashevillian. It wasn't long before this relationship became more than just a casual friendship. It also wasn't long before it started dawning on Matthew that he wasn't going to be able to support himself on music alone. He decided to supplement his musical income with jobs as a waiter. This would be his hedge against poverty and, if he scheduled his time carefully, would not interfere with his musical aspirations. Meanwhile, his relationship with Audrey became more serious and Matthew realized that he was loved. So did Audrey. It's really miraculous what happens when you realize that you are worthy of being loved. It's like you have a cup or vessel of some kind that you've been trying desperately to fill without success and now it's always overflowing. You can't empty it.

So Matt went from Vermont to Asheville looking for music.

He found something a million times more important.

On Saturday, June 21 Audrey and Matt were married in a beautiful ceremony. Even the most jaded observer would have to admit that here were two people who loved, respected, and most importantly, liked each other. Their heartfelt vows were a testament to how they truly feel about each other.

I was humbled to witness the miracle and to join Jerry and Carol, Audrey's wonderful parents, in the celebration.

Some people are incredibly lucky and love manages to find them at 15. For other people it takes a little longer.

Either way, ain't life grand?

 

With this happy entry, I have decided to end this blog. For the past four years I have bored, outraged, and bothered you with 100 blog entries .

People, you have suffered enough.

Before I hang up my pen, I do want to pay homage to some special individuals.

Nancy entered my life about a year and a half ago. We've been laughing almost continuously since then. We're either crazy or in love. The jury's still out. Thank you, Nancy.

If you've been reading along, you know my son Josh, his remarkable wife Cindy, and their twins Sam and Sara have been through the ringer these last two years. Well, take a look at 'em now:

I suppose I could be prouder of them, but I think I would blow up.

My wonderful brother, Marvin, and his spectacular wife, Sharon Kamowitz, rode in the Pan Mass Challenge for the first time last year and raised a nice sum of money for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. Both of them lost a spouse to cancer and are completely dedicated to their training. This year they are back at it, training to make it from Wellesley all the way to Provincetown. If you've enjoyed any of these 100 entries, or even if you just hated them a little, I urge you to donate to their ride. Go to the Pan Mass Challenge website and plug in either name and you will be able to donate to their ride. If I find out nobody donated, I'll be forced to continue this blog!

At least three of the regular readers of these ramblings are currently engaged in serious health battles. Please know that I think of all of you often and I know you will prevail. You're all made of stuff that is stronger than anything I can fathom.

One of my goals in writing these entries was to keep Ada's memory alive. I share this goal with Ada's brother, Bob. Whenever he tells me I've succeeded, I feel incredibly gratified. So, with that in mind, I'd like to end these entries with the poem I read at Matt's wedding:

She Smiles

She smiles at the thought of this delightful pair.

She smiles and we feel that smile everywhere.

It's there on Audrey's shoulder; it's in her sunkissed hair;

It's floating on dear Matt's lapel, this smile that's everywhere.

She smiles to see her family, together in one place;

She smiles to see the look of love quite clear on Matthew's face.

She smiles to see the Hagans, such gracious, pleasant hosts;

She smiles as she's remembered in this and other toasts.

She's smiles at this lame poet, at Nancy by his side,

At Josh and Cindy and those twins; no smile was e'er so wide.

So it behooves us all to smile and praise this joyous match,

And say to Matt, in baseball terms, “Willy Mays never made such a catch!”

Thanks for everything,

Much love to you and yours,
Here's that one good sunset picture I've been promising you:

Life sure is grand!
J