Who knows what brought it on?
My mood was perfectly good when I left on the morning trot. Was it the music?
Well, English folksong can be a bit melancholic. And there is something otherworldly about the singer, Alfred Deller.
Deller was born in 1912, sang as a boy soprano, and never got around to changing. Yes, his voice broke, and he no longer could naturally sing soprano. But he had a beautiful falsetto, and there was the tradition of countertenors singing in the cathedral choirs.
But Deller went on to champion early music on authentic instruments, as well as what WikiPedia calls “historically informed performance.” Michael Tippett hears him, Benjamin Britten creates the part of Oberon in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
Well, it’s a haunting voice, as you can hear. But maybe it wasn’t the music, or even the voice.
The weather?
Yes, it started to rain quite hard, but I found shelter next to an abandoned tennis court near the beach. And yeah, I like rain.
Well, the English folksong disc petered out, so I turned to “An Evening with Jessye Norman.” I’m putting all of my CD’s that I never listened to when I worked at Wal-Mart into iTunes. So I’m hearing things I haven’t heard in decades.
OK, first track—Dido’s Lament.
That might be when it hit.
Remember me, but forget my fate. Six words, but oh, how Purcell milks them. And Jessye Norman isn’t afraid to step up and face an emotion or two. So there I was, thinking why on earth was I giving all of my time and energy, those last years of my mother’s life, to Wal-Mart?
Yeah, I would take 15 minutes or so twice a day to call her, yeah I made the trips every three months, yeah I told her she could live with us and she said no.
So what was she doing, those last terrible years?
More often than not, I fear, sitting in her chair by her stove.
Alone.
Why didn’t I move to Wisconsin to be with her, I thought. What the hell was I doing those mornings on the bus, walking into work at 6:30, leaving at 5?
Ever hear of Raf, she replies. She talks to me, sometimes.
And now I’m crying and in the water and I’m saying ‘I’m so sorry, so terribly sorry’ and she says don’t be. I had to have that time to be ready to do what I did. That’s what let me stop eating and drinking. Now be quiet. You were a wonderful son and remember what I said yesterday?
Yeah, it’s a triumph. That’s what you said after the recital with Gunnar, and that’s what you said yesterday about Iguanas.
Yes, a triumph.
And what have I told you today?
Remember me but forget my fate.
Yes.
Will this mourning ever stop, I ask her. You didn’t go through this with your mother, did you.
I wasn’t as close to her as you were to me. And it’s much better now than two years ago. You know that, of course.
Of course.
Now stop it. Enough. What did I sing to you?
Remember me, but forget my fate.
And I plunge into the ocean…
…and then float.
