7 years a long time.

A lot of living happened in 7 years.

We moved from Connecticut in the foothills of the Berkshire mountains to a little town in Massachusetts smack in the middle of the Boston suburbs.

Friends, relocating is so hard for me. I try to grow roots and then I have to pull them up and start again. But I do it. You gotta follow your man and his job sometimes. I wasn’t real happy about it.

I lost my beloved Farmington Valley Chorale ( https://farmingtonvalleychorale.org )my first adult singing home. I found the quirky little first parish choir and from there learned about the Concord Women’s Chorus (https://concordwomenschorus.org/wp/ ). So I figured out the singing bit pretty quickly. (thank god!)

But it was hard being in a stubborn New England town. Lovely but hard. The pandemic happened and it was like moving all over again. Stating over. Again.

Then I got sick with Multiple Sclerosis. I woke one morning and could not feel my right arm (at all). And bc we were in the middle of pandemic I decided I wasn’t dying and did nothing about the on and off again weirdness going on with my right arm.(For the love, if this happens to you go to the ER immediately. This is the text book sign of a stroke. I was an idiot) Finally, the not being able to play piano got me into a doctor’s office.

A lot happened in 7 years, I’m pretty far from the person I was, and yet I’m the same?

Most notably my voice sounds different. I’ve been singing in some choral groups with professional direction for seven years. The choral directors know how to make people, normal people in off the street, sound good. Ain’t no warm up like a Jane Ring Frank warm up. Through the practice and work my voice changed . And then there is the hormonal shit that I won’t spend a lot of time bc I’m tired of hearing about it on the internet. Just my voice got mezzoy. It’s a neutral change. My range is about the same, but the tone is noticeably different. Voices are a trip. Same note different voices can sound wholly different. I think about that a lot.

And even though I can play now, my playing is not the same. When I was at my sickest I couldn’t hold a pick reliably. Playing piano caused an instant headache as the signals I was sending to my right hand wouldn’t go through. It was awful. I got very despondent. I stopped playing for spaces of time. I slept a lot. Likely I was depressed, but the thing about a brain disease is it all just gets chalked up as part of the disease. Sleeping a lot: MS. Fatigued: MS. Even the depression:fucking MS. Over time it improved as I mostly rewired the neural circuits. It isn’t perfect. I’ve lost something, particularly at the bench. This kills me. The picking isn’t as sharp or fast. There isn’t a helluva lot I can do about. Except. Keep Going. Life.

So I revisited a New Year’s Carol. And put it up on the YouTube channel for comparison sake. The first song that I completed. It’s a slower tempo bc I felt it at a slower tempo.

2018

https://youtu.be/7qli_V1hb3Q?si=NV-1CwpoVO_UZAWz

2024

https://youtu.be/IDRw8fzRZ28?si=WFCZftv50ItnbK8q

A New Year’s Carol:

Snow flying round.

Paint the earth white

Precious and new

As we start a new life.

Cover the ground

The mud and the dirt

Where grass used to grow

Beneath all our hurt.

The New Year it comes

Read or not

A wave crashing down

On all the we wrought.

We’ve played by the rules

But can’t seem to win.

Fate carries us on

The current of her whim.

(Instrument stuff)

Raise your glass high

As we toast the New Year

Drown way your sorrow

As I brush away tears

Bitter this cup

It’s time to move on.

Nothing in front of us

We’re already gone.

Watch the glass break

As I let it fall

Dance on the shards

In spite of it all

(Instrument stuff)

I’m weary my love

It’s time to move on

We’ll pack up the kids

At the break of the dawn

And head down the road

To wherever may be

Not lookin back

When it’s too dark to see.

Start a new life

On the remnants of old

If I am with you

I won’t be left cold.