Playing with Three Strings

We have seen Yitzhak Perlman, who walks the stage with braces on both legs, on two crutches.

He takes his seat, unhinges the clasps of his legs,
Tucking one leg back, extending the other,
Laying down his crutches, placing the violin under his chin.

On one occasion one of his violin strings broke.

The audience grew silent but the violinist did not leave the stage. He signaled the maestro, and the orchestra began its part. The violinist played with power and intensity on only three strings.

With three strings, he modulated, changed and recomposed the piece in his head. He retuned the strings to get different sounds, turned them upward and downward.

The audience screamed with delight,
Applauded their appreciation. Asked later how he had accomplished this feat,
The violinist answered,

"It is my task to make music with what remains."

A legacy mightier than a concert. Make music with what remains. Complete the song left for us to sing, transcend the loss, play it out with heart, soul and might with all remaining strength within us.

-- Rabbi Harold M. Schulweis

Today it feels overwhelming to think of playing the song without Andi's string.

Many times over the past three days my mind has wandered away from tasks to Andi...then to Duane and Kim...then to her family. I think of our own daughters just five and eight years younger and how fast time has flown...how those intervening years flash by so quickly. I cannot fathom the devastation.

Still, having known grief...I grieve for the grieving. Knowing that I can only stand beside for that time to offer a loving smile, a soft touch, a shared tear...the needs will change but the return is simple, loving acceptance.

"The heart of grief, its most difficult challenge, is not "letting go" of those who have died but instead making the transition from loving in presence to loving in separation."

-- Thomas Attig, in The Heart of Grief: Death and the Search for Lasting Love

In deepest sympathy and love...

Ann