For Edmond

Today was a shitty day. It was just frustrating, exhausting, hard-going and it totally took out more from me than I had.

Lunch was OK - chicken noodle soup but I did not really have time to fully appreciate it. Then I was called at the last minute to meet some out-of-town dancers for coffee at around 9.30pm. I was knackered & I still had to go to that birthday bash for my friend. Anyway, I drag myself to coffee, wishing I was home and just chilling. After the coffee with the girls, I was really tempted to go home instead but something told me I should make the effort as I had not seen the birthday girl and the rest of the gang in almost 2 years.

I'm glad I went. It was a reunion of all the top musicians and singers for the first time in a long time. It was pretty chilled. Almost everyone jammed and it was good to see and hear each other perform again and see how and where we'd improved or changed. I was still too tired to really get into it though and even my performance was way more chilled than normal.

And then the birthday girl, Denise was on stage trying to think of a song to sing. And someone from the crowd said "Sing Dance with My Father. For Luther, who left us way too early." Silence and everyone started howling & screaming "Yeah! For Luther!"

From the back of the room, a quiet voice said, "And for Edmond ... because it's his birthday too."

The room went silent as we all sobered and tried not to cry. Edmond Branson was one of the best percussionist I had ever met and he was truly a lovely and good man. Everyone loved him and the fact that he'd died too young and so suddenly really ripped all of us apart. So as Denise tried to sing without choking up, the rest of sang quietly ... afraid to look at each other for fear of falling apart. I knew then why I went to this reunion/birthday party/memorial.

The weirdest thing was just two weeks ago I was going through my namecards holder and the first card I picked up - not once but 3 times over that week - was Edmond's. Pretty freaky. It made me sad and I kept his card because he'd handwritten a message of me and it would be the last thing I got from him. Every time I look at it I remember the last time we jammed and the fun we had backstage at one performance. We had more fun jamming and sounded way more awesome backstage waiting for our turn than we did on stage. I wish I had made more effort to meet up with him for one last jam. But none of us knew it would be the last time. Regrets ... such puny and painful substitutes.

Edmond, this is for you. We miss you but we KNOW you are in a better place. Peace, brother.

Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around 'til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
How I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
'Cause I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Sometimes I'd listen outside her door
And I'd hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I'm praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don't do it usually
But dear Lord she's dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream

Categories - Rambling Prose