Double Funeral

Written on Saturday 26/09/09

The last time I went to a double funeral was in September 1984, when my very good friend, Reece Redcliffe, and his ex-girlfriend, Debbie Van Boom, in twisted Romeo and Juliet fashion, shared a funeral ceremony. The specifics of their deaths, up until today, cause me immense grief. The newspapers reported that Reece had fatally stabbed, first Debbie, and then himself. Imagine the horror of finding the lifeless, bloodied bodies, permanently altering the tranquility of the suburban home and shaking the entire Glenhaven community to its core! Reece and Debbie had been friends since they were tiny children, and their families had been close. When they started dating, as young adults, everyone thought it would be a fairy tale ending, white wedding, happily ever after, with lots of little Reeces and Debbies running around….. But it was not to be. After quite a few break ups, they’d each moved on, and Debbie was engaged to someone else.

So many stories abound, as to what transpired, that fateful day of 3 September 1984, but only the people present in that kitchen would know the truth, two of them now dead. So what is my theory? That a third person encountered them, a disagreement ensued, which got seriously out of control, and the third person put an end to the lives of the two vibrant, passionate, popular young people, best friends since childhood. Interesting that someone close to one of the parties involved not only didn’t pitch at the funeral, but went missing immediately afterwards, severing all contact with the family. Interesting that nobody put two and two together and questioned the police about their shoddy work.

Those of us who discussed and shared this theory had gone through so much pain, that it was never on anyone’s agenda to go the public route with correcting the ugly stories that had been splashed all over the newspapers. We all knew, without a doubt, that Reece would never have got angry enough to hurt, let alone kill, Debbie. I would sooner believe that fire won’t burn me than to believe that.

But today’s double funeral, of Manuel and Alice Abrahams, my partner’s elderly parents, was entirely different. This couple had been married for 56 years, and had walked a long road together, with a shared progeny of 5 children, 13 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren. Their deaths, two days apart, gave their story an extremely unusual ending. I regret to say I didn’t know them well (but that’s another story!), because they sounded like an interesting couple, quite unalike in many ways, and yet their life journeys had intertwined over six decades, which can only bear testimony to a very deep love, one which defied convention.

Funerals are for those left behind. For closure. For the coming together of the clan. For communities to pitch up and show their friendship and support. Funerals have a hierarchy of mourners, identifiable in the pre-arranged seating in the church, the choice of who’ll stand at the entrance and greet people as they arrive. When there’s a drive to a graveyard after the church, it’s identifiable in who sits in the specially provided vehicles that drive immediately behind the hearse, etc. Funerals are where other people, outsiders, scrutinize the family and try to figure out who’s who, who looks exactly like whom, who’s got a baby and isn’t married, who’s looking good, looking old, or simply……looking. Funerals are sometimes where we encounter people we haven’t seen for ages, people we don’t plan to see for ages, and people we now remember why we haven’t seen for ages.

Funerals are occasions to put aside your issues and focus on the matter at hand – being dignified as a mark of respect for those who have passed on to the next realm. Even a day where you shake the hand of someone your life has an unfortunate-connection-by-association with, and feel genuine sympathy for.

One of the priests at the funeral spoke about the vows made at weddings, about staying together ‘until death parts us’, and about the very special nature of today’s double funeral.

He said someone had asked him, on hearing of the double funeral, “Was it an accident?”, and he’d said, “No, it was a miracle.”

The songwriter in me cannot but be struck and moved by the awesome power of a couple dying within two days of each other - there’s nothing accidental about that kind of love!

Everything's Relative

My kids and I have a silly saying: Everything's relative - including your relatives!

On a much more serious note - I thought my week was "bad" when my car broke down twice in two days, but my Significant Other, his siblings and all their children are dealing with a huge blow: on Monday evening his dad (aged about 84) passed away peacefully and last night, his mom (aged about 76) joined him.

I have no words for this kind of thing. All I can do is be present and unambiguously, unconditionally supportive.

To Ivan, Judy, Leon, Carl and Alyson, as well as all their families, I extend my love and sympathy.

May the souls of Mannie and Alice rest in peace.

Breathe in........breathe out........

Monday 21 Sept 2009, 10:40pm

The end of yet another hectic day. Right now, listening to a Laura Fygi CD, borrowed from my sister and her husband when I popped in earlier tonight. While I was there, I heard a staggeringly beautiful song by one of my favourite singer-songwriters, Stevie Wonder (yes, unapologetically Old School), “Can’t Imagine Life Without You”. It really touched me! I have to learn it! Will Google the lyrics and chords tomorrow. It’s got those typical Stevie chords, the ones that make your toes curl! Haha! I find another of his songs similar in mood, “Kiss Lonely Goodbye”.

Laura Fygi now singing, no, crooning, a torch song, “It’s Crazy”, with a delicious trumpet solo by Clark Terry. Wow! I love the way brass players bend the melody all round the vocalist’s lines.

Kids asleep, house quiet except for this fabulous CD, filling the spaces in my jigsaw puzzle life. Must admit, there are quite a few pieces missing. My sister said an interesting thing tonight, and it was about how strongly Cuban and Brazilian music resonate with her. Her conclusion was that our origins most probably lie somewhere where that kind of music is native. And I must agree. The most seductive, compelling rhythms to me are also Brazilian and Cuban. I also find the Portuguese language really alluring, musical and absolutely easy on the ear.

Last week I tried to learn a French song, but I found it a lot more difficult than engaging with a Portuguese song. I can pronounce the Portuguese sounds easily, but French,….now that’s another story! I’m definitely going to need help. Come to think of it, that’s how I started with the Portuguese ones. I’d sit my Brazilian colleague (Diego) down, put the lyrics in front of him and ask him to read through them, then translate them, and then help me while I tried to pronounce the words. Having the music on CD helped, too, because I’d go home and play the song I was learning over and over again.

11:25pm and I’ve learnt the entire song, words and chords of “It’s Crazy”. Ok, it is an easy song!

Next one that’s grabbed me is “Good Morning Heartache”. I suppose I’m just in that mood. Torch songs. Actually, it’s been that kind of day. I often find it schizo to do the transition from a weekend of gigs, uninterrupted time with my lover and general, Real-Trudy stuff, to the structure of the working week, with that damned alarm at 05:20 and that shower while I’m half-asleep, then that traffic jam,……..! Like I said, transitions - take some of us longer to navigate our way through than others. Left brain, right brain. Yin Yang.

My sister, who works in the nursing profession, asked a really old patient what his secret to such a long life was. He smiled mischievously and replied, “It’s simple – breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out,….”.

Exposed

I wonder what makes people lash out and attack verbally. I wonder what pain must be coursing through their veins in order to be spiteful to the extent that the person on the receiving end of their words can feel physically violated. What I do know about people is that you act out what you know. You give what you've been exposed to. You give what is or has been a huge part of your personal experience. So when someone treats me harshly, unfairly, lashes out at me hurtfully or behaves in a way that humiliates and demeans, closing all possible doors of future communication, killing any possiblity of dialogue that might have existed, erasing any semblance of normal human boundaries and courtesy, flouting the most basic principles of common decency,..... I feel sad beyond words. Because now I know what their life has been all about. I feel sick to my stomach to have been exposed to such ugliness, but I am, more than anything else, deeply saddened by what I now know about their personal journey.

I'm a survivor. I have had so many things to deal with in my life, but I was raised with unconditional love, made to feel like a princess even though I now know that we had a very simple, unpretensious upbringing. My parents got divorced when I was 2, remarrying when I was 7, and finally splitting up, after a few attempts at making the marriage work, when I was 17. In my adult life, I had two very difficult relationships that spanned a collective 18-year period, and I finally freed myself. Right now I have sorted out a lot of issues in various aspects of my life, and I'm well on my way to reaching so many of my personal goals. I'm sensitive, critical and observant. I feel emotions intensely. And I have a deep knowledge about people and what certain things mean.

Some people try to hide the hurt in their lives with things that money can buy, with education, with more things that money can buy. They stand in judgement over others who for some reason or other, don't have what they have, and they smile their smug, superior smirk-smiles, all the time posturing, playing a role, assuming they can pretend forever.

But one day, without even realising it, they expose themselves to be nothing more than wounded, broken, gaping, festering victims of circumstance.

I need to lie in a long, hot bath and process these things. I have a physical ache in my chest, while all my senses reel, trying to deal with this unexpected onslaught. How sad that anyone would choose that path. How sad. How very, very sad.

Oh, for a castle of my own!

On Saturday 12/09/09, I had about an hour to kill(hate that phrase!), so I went to sit on a bench in Mouille Point, halfway between where my kids were busy with their respective music sessions. After an extremely hectic week, I sat on this bench and simply watched the sea. (Actually, workaholic, task-driven Virgo that I am, I whipped out my stucktogetherwithsellotape camera, and took photos, with the intention of sharing them on this blogsite!)

So the photos above were taken three days ago, by me, at a time that my restlessness was at an all-time high. Restless, that's another word that seems to be a constant adjective for me - it peaks and dips, but it's always there, lurking just below my seemingly calm exterior.

Right now, I'm so restless, I feel I want to climb to the top of Table Mountain, move into one of those huts (the one with hot water and electricity!) and stay there for a month, taking stock of myself and making life-altering decisions. My best friend told me she needs a change in her life, and I feel exactly the same. There are certain givens, constants, that I'm happy with, and I celebrate those blessings on a daily basis, like my children, my Mom, my musical activity, and a few wonderfully supportive friends. But I'm tired of being on the go all the time, doing, doing, doing,....., instead of being, being , being. This IS a recurring theme, and I've probably gone down this road in another blog.

I crave space, time out for reflection, solitude. One of my music heroes, Sting, lives in a castle, and has a wing that he sometimes retreats into, for periods of time, to create new music. I love that concept. I want to find a way to find the balance between my need for togetherness and my need for solitude. What I know for sure is that they actually co-exist happily inside of me. The tricky bit is making it all work within a social context.

Life threw an interesting curve-ball at me, 9 years ago, when my marriage ended, and I found myself having to live away from my children for days at a time. In the beginning, it was so hard to deal with, that I'd spend an entire weekend cleaning my house, just so as not to have to deal with the turmoil and emotions of living that way. It was a painful time for me, and I dealt with it in the only way I knew: I'd do housework, and then I'd play my guitar. A well-meaning friend at the time told me I was using my guitar as a crutch. Perception/interpretation?.... whatever! The point is, I channelled my energy into a creative outlet, and I wrote so many songs at that time! When I listen to them now, I can see how cathartic the whole process was. In the seven years that I was married, I wrote 6 songs. In the two years after my divorce, I wrote 22! Different things fuel our creative engines.

I suppose the fact that my house now looks like two hurricanes hit it means I'm SO over those issues! Hahahahaha!

Seereeyuss - if you know how I can go about finding more hours in a day and more days in a week, please let me know!

Random Russian

Photo - sign outside The Food Lover's Market on Saturday night.

Sunday morning, 13/09/09
Last night’s gig was very satisfying to me, as far as my bigger picture was concerned, namely, my promise to myself that this phase of my music career was going to be about growth in every possible way, about pushing personal boundaries, and about taking control of my destiny. I put together a three-set repertoire of songs and instrumental items, most of which Wayne and I had not done before as a duo. In some cases, I did songs that I personally had known most of my life, but seldom, if ever, performed to an audience, like “My Love”, by Paul Mc Cartney, by way of acknowledging the Beatles in this historic week.

I can’t deny that there’s something magical about working with Wayne. He’s a lot younger than I am, and comes from a different background, having been exposed primarily to Gospel music and not that much secular music, aside from his formal studies and his gig experience, so his frame of reference is very different to mine. But the magical part is, he’s confronted with the chart for the song (chords set out in bars) or, in some cases, the actual score (sheet music), but the song itself is often completely new to him – and then, using his incredible technical skill, and adding the X-factor that makes him who he is, he feels the song’s mood and interprets it exactly the way it should be played. I am convinced that’s not something that can be taught – he was born with that; it’s his gift. For me, as a singer, working with an accompanist who is all about music, entirely lacking in the guile and arrogance that occasionally become mistaken for “an artistic personality”, is itself a wonderful gift. Of course I have worked with other musicians who don’t fall into that category, but that’s not the point here – here I’m talking specifically about the person I work with now.

For some reason or other, I’ve always tended to rush through songs that could be taken at a much slower tempo – maybe it’s part of the success story of that old socialization process of playing yourself down, staying in the background, not putting yourself out there consciously – which, as you can imagine, is extremely schizo for a performer! One of the lessons I’m learning, now, is to take a ballad at its correct tempo, to feel it, to breathe through it, to live inside the song – and I’m learning that through the teachings, conscious and unconscious, of my guitar teacher and duo partner, Wayne Bosch.

A word I like to use, to articulate how I choose to walk this journey of life, is “unapologetically”. I choose to unapologetically put myself out there, and do my thing. In many ways, it goes against the Anglican upbringing I had, which was rooted in the Biblical doctrines of modesty and piety. But even then, I was raised by a mother who herself was a performer, and for whom music and live performance were like oxygen. So, no surprise that this turns out to be my overriding passion, as well! Interesting, too, that yesterday morning my daughter played the violin in their school’s orchestra at the Two Oceans Aquarium , and my son played drums in a jazz ensemble session, at Jazz Workshop.

By the way, my mom is now 79, and she still sings at concerts, her years of training and practice having ensured that her voice, even at this age, is still incredibly beautiful! She’s a classical singer, having done entire operas as the leading soprano. These days, she sings at concerts to help raise funds for different organizations, or to entertain groups of senior citizens.
(Her life story is remarkable, and I should write it, in collaboration with her.)

Also no surprise that, at age 48, I’m still working towards my debut original CD, because the age factor is actually quite irrelevant, all things considered. I’ve always rejected the notions that, firstly, a woman has to hide her age (?!!!!), and secondly, one has to wind down after a certain age. Naturally, I see, feel and embrace the inherent changes that come with age, but the idea of limiting my possibilities in life because I have reached a certain age…… huh?! It’s like saying, Now that I’ve become a mother, I’ll no longer wear jeans, or dance or swim or……..! I just don’t subscribe to that kind of closed-mindedness. Never have, never will. To use a word my kids over-use, it’s really quite “random”! Every person is unique, so everyone’s journey through life is unique.

Three years ago, my cousin, Judy Dudley, died, aged 42, about six weeks after being diagnosed with cancer. She was in hospital for ten days, and I saw her on most of those days, first fighting valiantly, and then succumbing to the inevitable destination her condition was moving her towards. Three months before that, I’d lost my dad, aged 74. He, too, ended this phase of his journey in a hospital bed, riddled with pain and fever as a result of multiple infections. He’d been diagnosed with diabetes in his fifties, and had eventually become insulin dependent, needing to inject himself daily. By the time he died, he had had a traumatic year of repeated hospitalization and recovery periods, but I think he eventually became tired of the fight to keep going. Granted, some of his choices in life predisposed him towards the kinds of health issues he had to deal with, but what the hell……., he lived his life, chose his path, lived unapologetically. His name was John Rushin, known to most as “Johnny”, to some childhood friends as “Kaffir”(!), and to two of us, as “Dad”. He was a colourful character, referring to himself as “JR”, and pronouncing his surname,”Russian”, unlike the more commonly-used “Rooshin”.

The point is: those two deaths shook me up, and made me look at my life and its many, many gifts, the endless possibilities and opportunities. When something difficult came my way, and I agonized about how terrible/unfair life was, I’d think about the fact that Dad and Judy didn’t have any possibilities in this realm anymore, and that I was alive, and had so many options at my disposal. Their deaths, coupled with surgery and a close shave with cancer, myself, in March 2007 (waited for lab results of biopsy for two agonizing weeks!), made me decide to embrace one of my main driving philosophies:
“I am alive, so I might as well be very alive!”

48 today!

Today's my birthday, and I'm 48! It's been a wonderful day, starting with my kids giving me scented candles in glass holders (for those long, lazy baths!) and my Significant Other taking a run down to my place (4km?) to say hi and give me a gift.

At school, my colleagues have fussed over me all day, giving me cards, flowers, a fantastic Brazilian CD from Waseefa (Samba Bossa Nova) and a wonderful book from Jacques(In The Land Of Invisible Women, by Qanta A. Ahmed, MD). I was also given a HUGE chocolate cake for my family and a sweet little cupcake for moi. To top it all, my boss (bless his dear soul!) said I could go home early!!! And so, with one or two more tasks to complete, I bid adieu!

I'm off to have a very happy birthday! The sun's shining brilliantly, my cellphone's Inbox is filled with beautiful wishes, and I feel absolutely loved and appreciated.

The pic attached was taken a few minutes ago by my colleague, Anthea.

Thanks to all my friends and family who called, sent sms's and e-mails, and for the hugs and kisses and wishes today.

My gift to myself today - ENJOY being the birthday girl!!!!

E-mail: Rushin & Bosch duo gig

Hi!

This Saturday, the fabulous WAYNE BOSCH and I team up once again to entertain you for three hours, upstairs at The Food Lover's Market, in Claremont (cnr Vineyard & Dreyer Streets).

From 7 to 10pm, we play music to make you smile , doing evergreens from the jazz and swing genres, with lots of lovely bossanovas, as well as a selection of originals. Wayne is my guitar teacher at Jazz Workshop, and the synergy we've developed in class translates into great energy on the bandstand. He is both skillful and sensitive as a guitarist and accompanist, which is any vocalist's dream! Having had constructive input into some of my original compositions, he has a working knowledge of my songs, and his interpretation is always spot-on.

The Food Lover's Market boasts an amazing Saturday menu special, to beat those recession blues: a 3-course meal + glass of wine, for only R95!
PLUS......No cover charge for the live music means you score again!

Give it a try this weekend - you might just join the growing number of Saturday night regulars! Thanks again to family and friends who came to listen last Saturday. Also really nice to meet new music lovers, out to have fun.

* Check out my blog: http://alwaysrushin.blogspot.com

* PLEASE PASS THIS E-MAIL ALONG TO (AT LEAST) TWO PEOPLE, TO HELP ME SPREAD THE WORD. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Every day of my life, I'll give myself a gift that money can't buy. Trudy Rushin

Peace
Trudy

Reflecting, on a Sunday night (06/09/09)

Last night, I gigged with Alvin Dyers at The Food Lover’s Market, and for the first time in years, recorded part of the gig (on my mom’s little cassette recorder!). For most of the night, I hadn’t felt on form, so the gig felt like really hard work. It felt like something was missing – can’t quite explain. The sound somehow wasn’t as warm as I wanted it to be, so I felt shrill. The restaurant was packed, and the people responded well to what we played, but still I felt a bit odd. At the same time, the evening went quite fast, and I hung around afterwards with my best friend, Tracy, my Significant Other and a friend of his. We sat chatting and I had something to eat, at about 10:30pm, realizing for the first time how hungry I was, and that I’d last eaten at 1:30pm! I suppose that had also contributed to my feeling out of sorts.

Today I listened to the recording and went from being mortified to being “fairly ok” with the results. Actually, the songs on Side B (the third set) sound quite good. Alvin’s a highly accomplished musician, with years of performing experience, and he adds a cool touch to my performance; there’s a lot I can learn from him. We had an interesting chat about quoting for different types of gig, and I gained new insight into that whole issue.

The past ten weeks that I’ve been performing there have been very interesting, to say the least. The restaurant owners originally decided to add live music to attract clients on Saturdays, their quiet nights. Every week that I’ve played there, I’ve seen a steady increase in the numbers. I’ve upped my own multi-faceted marketing system. In addition, I set myself the target of adding 10 new addresses every week of September, and last week I already added 17! Seeing people pitch up in response to my advertising is extremely gratifying. It spurs me on to do more, to push myself beyond my previous limits.

Every now and then it occurs to me that most of what I need in life, I already have access to – all I need to do is find the path. I started sms-ing people in my cellphone contact list, and getting their e-mail addresses. I was amazed at how many of my friends’ e-mail addresses I didn’t have! This week I’ll try to add another 10. Also, I’ve decided, based on a principle used in network marketing (aaaaargh!!!!), that if everyone who received my weekly gig e-mail sent it to just two people, that would be an interesting way to spread the word.

Yesterday morning I woke up and made a resolution:
Every day of my life, for as long as I live, I will give myself a gift that money can’t buy.

Yesterday’s gift was forgiveness. It’s so easy for me to forgive others, but I’m so hard on myself, seldom letting myself off the hook, hypercritical. Today, really critical of myself after last night’s performance, I decided I needed the same gift as yesterday! When I hit on the idea, yesterday, I immediately sat down and wrote a list of gifts that money can’t buy, and I was excited at how many possibilities there were. And nothing stops me from giving myself the same gift more than once, like I did this weekend!

As I said to my best friend, Tracy: the next logical step is to treat everyone else like I do myself – give everyone I encounter some kind of gift that money can’t buy. If I concentrated on that, imagine how bright my days would become! What a lovely way to walk the journey of life.

Kids asleep, and all’s right with my world. And now, to end this beautiful day with a delicious soak in a hot bath! And then, to sleep……perchance to dream.

Saturdays/September/Spring/Silence

Autumn sunset, as seen from my garden, August 2009.

Wow! It's been a month since my last blog! (Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.) Life's been as interesting as ever. My mother always says, "You certainly can't say you lead a boring life, my dear!" Indeed!

During the last week of August, I got the great news that I had the Food Lover's Market gig for September, as well. Same time-slot: Saturdays, 7-10pm.

This is the line-up:
Sat. 5 Sept: Alvin Dyers and I
Sat. 12, 19 & 26 Sept: Wayne Bosch and I

On the one hand, it's hard to believe this weekly gig has entered its third consecutive month, and on the other hand, I have to say: Mind Power works!(believe it!)

I'm having a ball, with this gig! I advertise wherever free advertising is possible, and at every one of the 9 gigs so far, there've been friends and family who've pitched up to listen. It's so cool!!! And it's proof that some people do read e-mails, some even forward them to their friends, and others even arrange their weekends around the info I send out! THANK YOU! DANKIE! ENKOSI! MERCI! DANKE! GRACIAS! OBRIGADA!

On a more personal note, I'm using these performing opportunities to stretch myself, musically. I set challenges for myself every week, and along my own journey I'm breaking new ground. I started playing guitar in 1978, 31 years ago, and it's been one helluva love affair! Going back to lessons in January 2008 made me realise just how much there was to learn, and the way I feel now, I never want the process to end. Juggling my family obligations and my day job with my music is an ongoing challenge, but one I rise to with all the excitement of a child in an ice-cream shop! I'm insatiable, when it comes to my music. I love performing, and the opportunity to go out in public and make music is one of the things that "make me tick". Getting to the end of a week in my very interesting day job (at an English language school for foreigners), I'm delighted at the prospect of the other part of me having its turn to step out and get an airing.

I've always liked being involved in different things at the same time. Many years ago, I taught at a primary school by day and studied at UWC by night. And that went on for years! At the same time, I was involved with aerobics and road running, as well as singing in a band at restaurants and clubs! And at the same time I managed to have a relationship. (In fact, quite a few - one at a time, though!)

And life goes on. I'm feeling stressed by driving 20km in two directions every day in horrendous Cape Town peak-hour traffic. But once I'm in the city centre, I love the vibe, I love working right in the middle of town. Actually, the drive itself is quite scenic, if I take the M3 freeway, with its hills and trees. Staggeringly beautiful in the rain! Even Hospital Bend, with its major construction works, is not as bad as we all imagined it would be. Have you seen those people who are employed to wave the warning flags? How boring is that?! I want to put this into a song one day: "Things could be a lot worse, my friend - you could be waving a flag on Hospital Bend."

Moving along with so many of my goals, achieving big and little successes along the way - such an interesting journey I'm on!

Doing a lot of introspection around areas of my life that work better than others, about how much longer I can fly my flag at half-mast, about freedom and its implications, about commitment, about perceptions, about motherhood, about rest, about time, about money, about tomorrow, about passion, about music, about silence.