The day after the funeral
Mass to celebrate Brandon’s life, June 7, 2012, I met our youngest daughter
Carolyn at “my” labyrinth in Smale Park.
We planned to have a “nice” lunch at one of the restaurants at the adjacent
Banks area, but after we’d walked the labyrinth both of us were in the mood for
comfort food. In this case, we decided “comfort” meant sharing a chocolate
malt, so we headed to Johnny Rockets less than two blocks away.
As we ate, we talked about
many things Brandon – his life, his illness, his death, and each of us voiced a
desire for some sign to let us know he was all right in the wherever. Music of
the 1950s, 60s and 70s played in the background as we talked and savored our
chocolate malt. I can’t remember if we were still discussing wanting some sign
or if the discussion had ended, but we had just decided we’d better get on with
our day when a song by George Harrison and the Traveling Wilburys came
over the loudspeaker. It began “Well, it's all right, riding
around in the breeze; Well, it's all right, if you live the life you please…”
Carolyn and I kept listening to the lyrics and looking at one another, both feeling as if we’d been granted a sign. But
that wasn’t the end of it. Five to 10 minutes later, the check had been paid,
and Carolyn and I were saying good-by when George Harrison and the Traveling
Wilburys again began, “Well it’s all right…” Carolyn and I both burst into
tears and hugged. How many times have you sat in a restaurant with canned music
playing in the background and a particular song plays twice in less than 10
minutes?
I tracked the song down as soon as I arrived home. I
first thought the title must be “It’s All Right,” but that search took me
nowhere. When I added “Well” before the other words, I finally found it.
Imagine how the concept of it being a sign was reinforced when I realized the
actual song title is “End of the Line”!
(Note the empty rocking chair in the music video, which is for Roy Orbison, who
was present for the recording of the song but had died before the video was
made.)
Still,
Brandon (and George) hadn’t finished with me that day. A couple of good friends
had suggested taking me out for dinner that same evening, and the spot decided
upon is about a half-mile from our home. Rather than having them pick me up, I
decided to walk and meet them there. They were delayed by rush-hour traffic, so
I arrived first and requested an outdoor table overlooking the Ohio River.
Because those tables were full, I was given a beeper and went out to the front
entry to wait for my friends. Canned music similar to that at Johnny Rockets
played in the restaurant and at the entry area. The beeper went off before my
friends arrived, and I went in to hold our table. The moment I walked onto the
outdoor deck the music changed from the canned version inside to the opening
song of a live band on the deck, which could only be heard by those in the
outdoor dining area. Their opening song? I walked out to George Harrison’s
“Here Comes the Sun.” Strangely, when the waiter and I arrived at our table, it had been given to
someone else. The waiter apologized profusely, but I told him not to feel
concerned. I let him know that I was supposed to come out on that deck at that
moment, and it had nothing to do with a table. He may have looked at me oddly,
but I didn’t care nor did I explain further.
I
did wonder why Brandon picked George, my second favorite Beatle, since Paul
McCartney is my definite favorite. Also, most of our family had enjoyed hearing
Sir Paul in concert at Cincinnati’s Great American Ball Park on August 4, 2011,
and Brandon and I had shared a long tearful hug as Sir Paul spoke about the
importance of letting loved ones know of your feelings for them in the now and
then sang “Here Today,” which he’d written in memory of John Lennon.
So
there I was the next afternoon, June 8, 2012, wondering “Why George?” while
taking a more in-depth look at the later life of the “quiet Beatle” and channel
surfing. First my channel surfing took me to the last five minutes of an older
McCartney concert. Then I found I’d been wrong in thinking that the cancer
that took George Harrison had started in one of his lungs. Instead his cancer
had originated in his throat. Although the initial site differed, like Brandon,
George Harrison was also a victim of a head and neck cancer.
Brandon
(and George) have also been busy in the last month. My son Joe(y) and his
family live about 30-40 minutes from my brother Eric and sister-in-law Joni,
and Joe and Eric have been good buddies long before they ended up living in
close proximity. As my sister-in-law Joni was dying of ovarian cancer at the
end of January, Joe traveled to my brother’s nearly every day, and every day as
he headed to my brother’s house, a different, yet meaningful, George Harrison
song would come on the radio channel he listens to. He heard End of the Line
and Here Comes the Sun, but he also heard While My Guitar Gently Weeps, which
was one of Joni’s favorites. We figure it was one more way of Brandon letting us
know he was running alongside Joni as she completed the last days of her life and crossed her Finish Line.
Why
do I write about this today? I meant to write about it months or weeks ago, but
it didn’t happen. Then I realized February 25, 2013 was George Harrison’s 70th
Birthday, and I knew the time was right. (I started writing this blog post on
his birthday, although it will be posted on February 26th!)
Happy70th Birthday, George Harrison.
I’ve long admired your music as well as
your spirituality. Thank you for sharing songs that Brandon could use as signs
that would have significance for several members of our family.
