I've had the flu. And I've been sad.

Cough. Cough-cough. Hack. Hack-hack. Nose blow, nose blow, nose blow...

Such has been my routine for almost two weeks now. The flu never comes at a good time. But it came at an especially bad time for this harpist-singer.

I had to play at a wedding last Friday. Everything was fine until I had a coughing fit during the psalm, but the guests sang on and I managed to play to the end. The sweet bride told me everything was still beautiful. Oh, how nice.

I had a booth at the Mankato Bridal Show last Saturday. Handed out hundreds of fliers and business cards to hundreds of brides, played Canon in D for hours on end.

And then, on Monday, I played at the funeral of my friend Lisa, who "went to Heaven" as her mother told me, last Wednesday. I was so worried that I'd not be able to sing How Great Thou Art and O Holy Night, as Lisa requested. I was terrorized by the memory of that coughing fit at that wedding last Friday. My voice had to hold out. I had to make it through, for Lisa and her family. I had to.

So I did lots of gentle practicing in the days leading up to the funeral. Got lots of rest, drank gallons and gallons of tea, took everything my wonderful pharmacist put in my cart.

Harry helped with the practicing. Oh, good kitty.

I decided I would be just fine. Everything would be fine. My voice would be fine, I would play just fine. And everything was coming along just...fine...

...until Lisa's mom brought this over to my house 
the day before the funeral.

It's a gift basket Lisa got for me at a benefit four days before she died. She'd texted me allllll day long about getting me one, I texted back with "no, you don't have to do that," she texted back with, "yes, I'm going to anyway." And she did. It wasn't even noon when Lisa's mom dropped it off. I popped the cork anyway and poured a glass to honor Lisa and to stop the tears that I knew would flow and stuff me up and cause a coughing fit. 

The funeral on Monday WAS fine. My voice did hold out. My harp sang and put forth that beauty and healing that only it can do. I felt it change the atmosphere in the church. I didn't cough. I didn't cry. I did my job. I did it. But I've been so sad ever since. At the loss of Lisa. At the loss of a friend. At the unfairness and ugliness of cancer. All of it. 

But Harry came to the rescue again. 
He flapped his tail right into my face the night of the funeral
and he kept it there for an hour. 
Oh, good kitty.

Oh, goodbye, Lisa. I'll miss you, my friend.


  1. How very sweet, and sad. I am sorry.

    1. Thanks, Ann. I feel your kindness from a few streets away.

  2. Jennifer Schuler1/25/2013

    So sorry for the loss of your friend Lisa. Nothing loved is ever lost and she was loved so much! Hugs to you Amy!!

    1. Thanks so much for this, Jennifer. It's beautiful advice. I'll remember that.

  3. stewart ross1/25/2013

    I am so sorry it hit you harder than me Amy. I was out for about 5 days and it was mainly over after 7. I missed the Kiwanis International Board meeting last week but that was a blessing since I had marked those days off as I was to be in Indianapolis so I really missed nothing else. I think the flu shot made it not as bad as it was for many others. I hope it ends soon for you. Not fun at all.

    1. Thanks, Stewart. I have asthma, so respiratory stuff always lingers for me. I got the flu shot, too. I must be a unique germ magnet.

  4. Anonymous2/06/2013

    Totally random that I landed at your blog (a knitting link no less) and I wanted to express my own sadness to hear of the passing of such a sweet soul. What a lovely tribute you paid to her and her to you.

  5. Thanks for "finding" me and for this lovely comment. I hope you stop back often! It's not always so sad here...

  6. Very sorry Amy.
    What can one say...It makes me remember people I've lost
    Very very hard.
    I'm glad you were able to do your best for her.