Priorities

I can tell this is going to sound whiny. I haven't been a whiner since I was in high school, I swear. But sometimes, no matter how hard I try, my voice starts to creep up in pitch, my words begin to flow like a sixteen-year-old's and the whine of my youth takes hold. Most of you probably won't blame me.

The last few months have been rough on me-for lots of reasons.

My chamber choir-what I *really* do-is at a cross roads. We are finally breaking into our community's arts scene but several other performing groups hold on to their territory-we're seen as interlopers-eventho we are a chamber choir, don't give as many concerts per year and are not the big choruses they are. Still, the word on the street is we're good and we're happy about it. Our fall concert was probably one of the best concerts I've ever conducted and my singers are a bunch of the nicest people I've ever worked with. It's stressful--but a good stress.

My husband is now past-president of the board of our local professional symphony. But since they are also in the midst of a new music director search, any extra time he gained from leaving the presidency has been lost because he's on the search committee. So far, we've had a few conductor-candidates come through with several more to come. And hubby has volunteered me to host a reception at our home after a concert for one of the conductors. It's interesting to see the *other side* of a conductor search. I don't necessarily mind but I am seen by the usual *Ladies who Lunch* for this arts organization as not doing as much as I should be. Stressful!

I am finishing a book-editing-of essays about raising a child who had autism. My husband wrote a children's book about Russell years ago and this is sort of a companion work. Chuck's book was updated last year and it seemed a perfect time to finish the darn thing. I even have three publishers interested. And last fall, after my concert cycle and before I had to conduct a "Messiah," thought I'd get a chance of doing just that. The best laid plans have a way of not turning out, don't they?

In mid-November, as I was having a coffee meeting with one of my singers about a venue, I got a call from one of my sons. He was helping me by staying with Russell that morning-- I could have my meeting before he had to go to work. He told me he had just called 911 because Russ seemed to be having a seizure and told me to get home. After Russ was transported by ambulance to the hospital, he had another seizure in the ER. After some tests and four days in the ICU, we know what happened. I won't go into the *whys* here, but will tell you things suddenly slip into perspective when something like this happens. We have to track everything he eats and how much, have to be mindful of his weight and how much liquid he drinks and how much exercise he gets. All in all, he is healthy now and doing well but……….autism sucks!

It may interest you to know, after I sent someone home for my clothes and my laptop so I could stay in the hospital with Russell, I got him to calm down and to sleep by playing YouTube selections from "Fantasia"-especially the "Pastoral." I've always used music to help Russell in stressful situations and watching him sleep with tubes coming out of him and restrained, I needed music to calm me too. I had asked them to bring my CD player and CDs and sang to myself quietly-I thought-one of the Schubert vocal quartets I am preparing for spring. I sang "Jesu Parvule"-the Alfred Burt carol-to Russell, too, almost every night we were there. One of the night nurses came in to tell me it was the prettiest thing she ever heard coming from any ICU room…….Russell's music and me singing. I know he heard me and was comforted at his most ill because when I came over to his bedside to switch the YouTube selections, he grabbed my hand and tried to kiss it.

Things are almost back to normal here in the south suburbs of Chicago. I am working on auditions for my chamber choir and have had several really good days of editing this week. Russell continues to do well and is as spunky and silly and smart as he's always been. He keeps us on our toes, our Russell!

The sniping of me not doing enough for the local symphony has continued as well-a few months ago, it would have bothered me. Not so now. I will get the wine and cheese and crackers, clean my powder room and make sure the living room is vacuumed. I will slap a smile on my face when the Ladies chastise me. I will go to the concerts, feed the music director candidates and talk of music. I will be charming but I am still a little heart-sick.

In my heart, I know what is important. The music is important. The music changes lives. The music comforts. It is so much more important than any one of us. We know it because we've seen it with the singers of JN and EOJ and EJN. Music is more important to those singers than it probably is to us. We need to be mindful of that. I know music helped save Russell this fall-I know it.

I have used music with Russell since he was a little boy, before we had even a glimmer of his disability. It is part of his life and has been an important part, too. He is non-verbal so he doesn't sing-he hums-and he is a discriminating listener. Many think music is just an *extra something* in the lives of those with challenges and not important in the grand scheme of things. I believe it is more important than any of us realise. I know music helped Russell-and me too-get through this difficult time.