As a part of our organ campaign, I am glad to be here to speak for a couple of minutes about the power of this organ and music in general. Music has surrounded me my whole life but it wasn’t until the terminal cancer of my step father that I realized its power and importance.
After two years of fighting this illness, it was clear to all of us that he was dying. I was far away in San Diego and he and my mom were in Minnesota. I began thinking about all of the things he was leaving behind, favorite foods, warm time with family, the beauty of a day, and music. Oh my, music. I could not even fathom the idea of leaving music behind. It was more than I could bear. I began picking out all of my favorite pieces to play for him one last time before he was gone. During this time I heard, really heard Samuel Barber’sAdagio for Strings for the first time. It was Steve rising and entering the sizzling light of heaven with us left behind to pick up the pieces. I could see it so completely. I had to play this one for him as well. As I packed for this monumental trip home I probably had more CD’s than clothes in my suit case.
I spoke with my dad about music after Steve’s death, “how can we leave music,” I cried. “I don’t thing we do leave music” was his response. I think the music comes with us. My father was a singer and he told me that sometimes, some special and rare times, when he sang during a performance, he felt the power of thousands of voices and he know that there were many many more there singing along with him. He knew that he was a part of something of God.
Not even a year later it was my father that was struck with cancer. My boys, his grandsons, sing in the boy’s choir here and so I would send him clips of their singing and our organ. On one of my many trips to Minnesota I brought along with me the online St. Georges Service. We had a date, my father and I, in his hospital room, sat together on his bed and he marveled at the beauty and power of that service, tears streaming down his face. That day our organ way out here in San Diego moved a very sick man in Minnesota who loved music and knew its power.
My dad always said he’d be there for his funeral. He’d planned every detail including all of the fantastic music. I watched for him the whole time. My children played the piano, that was a special moment, the choir sang, that was a special moment, but in none of that did I feel dad. It was only after the service that I found my dad’s presence. His wife asked me to mover her car, the sky was stormy just the kind of sky my dad would have loved, and as I turned the key on her car the radio blared one line from a Beatles song “All you need is love”. I knew it was my dad. That was his gift to me from heaven. In that one phrase of music, “All you need it love,” my dad had sent me the meaning of life. We can find God in all kinds of music from our grand organ and it’s heaven like sounds to rock and roll coming in through a simple car radio.
Throughout these hard times, the music of our organ, my boys singing, my CD collection, and even the pop radio; music was there to hold me that much higher when I felt strong and cradle me in its comfort when it was all just too much. Here on earth, music is a big part of my connection to God and my connection to heaven.
I am generously supporting our Organ Restoration because it opens us up to the divine. My dad knew this true gift of music and he has passed that gift onto me. And I, in turn, will pass the same gift onto my own children. The music of our organ supports us and provides us with a small piece of heaven here on earth.
Christine D’Amico
