singing songs in sacred circle

As some of you may know my stepfather was diagnosed with Pancreatic cancer and due to the nature of pancreatic cancer and when it is detected through symptoms it is untreatable. The doctors have given him 2-6 months to live although some I have talked with tend to gauge that as on the low side. But better to shoot low than two high and end up with disappointed family members. Because of this rapid decline in his health he has been having several visitors-family and friends wishing to see him before things get too ugly or sad or depressing.

With this came his children from his second marriage and is grandchild. It also brought his sister from Toronto (I believe) and his cousin. It became a mini family reunion of sorts. Needless to say the week was filled with some interesting times and some really beautiful and strong memories.

To begin with, it is hard to recognize why all of these people are coming, I shouldn't say "these" people, just people in general. It is hard to recognize that during the fun times, the laughs, the tears, why we all ended up here together. But I do believe that things happen maybe not for a reason, but as they should, or even better as we will them to.

I will never forget the beautiful moment: We had all just gotten back from horseback riding, which, I have to admit was the worst ride I have ever gone on. The scenery sucked and consised mainly of the low-income and assisted-living arrangements is Estes Park, which are both fine places, but I don't need to pay money to see them. And our tour guide started off on the wrong foot from the beginning, criticizing Obama, for a "methane tax." Now I don't care one's political views one way or another (o.k. that isn't totally true), but please, Please, PUH-LEASE, do not share them with me while I am on a touristy trail ride at your ranch. Needless to say he made no tip from our group of hippie, progressive, mainly Obama-supporting group.

But afterwards, when we are gathered at my mother's house for dinner something sort of magical happened. My stepfather was on the couch, surrounded by his daughter, her husband cooking in the kitchen, his two sons, one with girlfriend, ex-wife, sister and children, Jill busted out her guitar. She had been playing some folk-y favorites from a song book from my stepfather's daughter, when she was asked to play Indigo Girls, "that Galileo song" in fact.

So she began playing and those of us who knew the song which, were quite a few, began to sing along. "How long 'til my soul gets it right, did any human being ever reach that kind of light?" My stepfather began to tear up, my mother wailing with tears, and all of us singing this song. "I call on the resting soul of Galileo king of night vision, king of insight."

Bittersweetness. Beautiful music, with eery subtext. At least my thoughts, wandering to when and if we would ever be sitting in a circle like this, complete. Wondering if we could ever sing this song again and not think of that moment. That moment when the affect was palpable, the tensions between fear and beauty were alive, and yet dying. Wondering what will happen when my stepfather leaves, if we will all still be family able to sit and sing and just be with one another?

"How long til my soul gets it right?" We all have to ask ourselves that question. Is there a time when we get it right? Right enough to be ok with resting one's soul?