Shadow Puppet Storyteller

Mozart and LaMancha

I received many compliments from family and friends attending the Celebration of Life for my dad this past Sunday. I feel I only did what I wanted; gave it the attention to detail that was my style. There was music and words and sharing by others. There was a location and a selection of specific people, there was a specific level of treating those who attended to a taste of who he is, what he loved. I imbued it with ritual - nothing that I drew anyone's attention to. really only I knew. His cremains were placed reverently and draped in colorful cloth on the piano that was played throughtout. I only made the pianist aware that he was placed there. And consciously, I only think two other people and myself knew his cremains were there, and receiving the glorious reverberation of that piano played so masterfully. I felt a blast of joy at one point in the music, and I know it was heightened by the seat I choose. There were little pauses and stutterings and expressions that I don't think I even heard right, the first time, but nothing bothered me. By the time we'd made it through, I had accomplished what the whole prior near-month had been about.