stupid shit i think about

stupid shit seems an apt title for many of my posts.

My mom's open heart surgery is scheduled for this Thursday. I need to call her today. She is really scared. I am too in a surreal way...kind of detached and selfish. I have a calm feeling that she will make it through fine but there is always that chance that she may not. She is quite weak.

I have had a dream of singing at my moms funeral ever since I sang Rutters' Requiem...I don't know, 15 years ago I guess. I dream that I am to sing the bass solo of the Requiem. It's very low and stretches my voice almost to it's limit. It's very uncomfortable...yet perhaps Requiem should be uncomfortable.

It's starts out so low and very quiet..."Libera me domine de morte aeterna" - "Lord I pray deliver me from deaths everlasting fire". If I don't think of the English I'm ok...but if I indulge myself I loose it in hopeless gasping sobs. Mom turned 75 in September and I sent her flowers for her birthday. She liked them quite a bit I think based upon her thank you note. Written in an unsteady hand on an enormous piece of paper. She also pointed out that now being 75 she is 3/4 of the way to heaven.

I don't think anyone enjoys hearing song in Latin anymore. And I don't think the 1st born son should have to sing at his mothers funeral. She is going to be fine. Yet the day will come for the song. Who will have the fortitude to sing?