Monday, September 21, 2009

The Bells

The American Baptist church I grew up in was given a set of English handbells in the early 1980s. My mother and I joined the choirs; adult and junior, respectively. I played the bells for many years from around the 5th grade through college. If my memory serves me correctly, I last played bells in 1992.

My mother played bells for the last time this past Spring at a festival in March. She discovered her cancer a couple of weeks later, and was gone by mid-June.

3 weeks ago, the subject of playing bells was brought up at a meeting concerning music at Broadway United Methodist Church. The next day, the music director asked me to join the bell choir and I accepted his invitation. I believe Mom is proud of this, and I'm sure she'll tell me some day.

Yesterday was our first performance and I had only been able to make it to one practice. It went very well, despite the fact that it was a very difficult piece of music requiring techniques I had long forgotten. I could tell Mom was there counting in our ears and telling us to relax. My friend Doug came up to me after the service and gave me a big bear-hug saying, "Your mother was here today Jay, and I think she brought some angels with her." This meant a lot coming from Doug since he sang at her funeral in June.

I love the sound of bells, and I rejoice in the fact that I'm carrying on Mom's legacy and putting music back into my life.