As usual, I have a plan for what I think I am going to write (or not) and circumstances drive me to a completely different path. I open my computer. It catches my attention today’s Google doodle. It is the first AI powered doodle in honor of Bach who was born March 21 (old style). We can honor him again on March 31st since that’s his birthday in our current Gregorian calendar.
As soon as I saw Bach’s name, I remembered my mom. I decided to put the Well Tempered Clavier in Spotify in her honor. She loved this entire piece of art. I heard it many, many times during my teen age years, during my twenties and finally during the last 15 days I was with my mom before she died of cancer eight years ago.
As soon as the music started flooding the quietness of my house, a torrent of tears went down from my eyes through my cheeks. Some of them made it to my lips, and their saltiness caught me by surprise.
Every time my mom saw me sad, she invited me to lie down in her bed, and close my eyes. She put the well tempered clavier, and started giving me a soft massage on my back. Magically, I could leave out all my sorrow. I remember the music entering through my pores, invading my body in a way that gave me permission to cry and eventually reach the peace needed after a broken heart.
The last days I stayed next to my mom´s bed, I volunteered playing Bach. She nodded. A sullen look and an arrhythmic breathing were part of her painful process of leaving this world. When doctors told her that it was just a question of days, she was battling hard, but tired of the waiting. In one point, she gave up and told me she just wanted to die. Still, she felt the need to hold back a little longer to give my dad some time to process the fact that her turn was first.
I pressed the play button. The music floated tenderly in her room. Her frown started slowly to disappeared, her breathing got steadier, the wrinkles on her face faded and a gentle smile invaded her face.
My mother always wanted me not to leave her side, and that day I was holding her hand after 22 years of not being with her. This time, I was the one who did not want her to leave my side.
Bach can make miracles, and bring my mom back to my side, blending each other melancholy on a mutual consolation. Every time I feel sad, but can´t get my feelings out, I play the tempered clavier. It´s infallible.