Rory & Pig Go to the Symphony

Can you hear it? The quick notes pick up speed like a rooster in a fight with the rain. His frustration is building – doot, doot, doootdoootdooot! and his cries towards the dark clouds that are keeping the sun from rising persist – ddddooot-doot-doot-DOOT!

The rooster tries to distract himself with the hens considering their breakfast in the deary morning light that is barely making it through the clouds – WHEEeep, wheep, weeeee and the rooster responds with cooling coos – shoo-ooop, doo-oop, dooo-weee. The hens scatter off as the lighting hits the sky and the thunder claps loudly throwing the rooster back to his focus. DOOT! DOOOO-OOOT! DOOTDOOTDDDDDOOOT! He’s mad and he is letting the sky know it! The rain slows, bloooop-bloooop-blooop-blooop and finally the rooster is allowed his duty to “Cock-a-doodle-doooooo!” the morning sun above the earth’s edge.

The audience roars in applause. Everyone is to their feet. The saxophonist, a handsomely clad gentleman, wipes his brow with his black kerchief and shines his saxophone to the same brilliance of the sun the rooster brought up to its glory. The symphony behind him catches their breath, adjusts their music, and intently focuses on their conductor who has raised his hands for another beautiful unification of stories in audible action. It is the best dessert, one of luxury in smooth ribbons of rich sounds, colors forming as the mind tries to put pictures to what is heard. Rory and I heard a farm, a gloomy morning that would not stay as such if the rooster had anything to do with it. Before the morning was over the gray rain became that of golden drops and rainbow-ed beauty. The symphony, what a glorious evening!

It was a glorious place where Oma was celebrated and honored by The Virginia Symphony as one of Hampton Road’s Outstanding Music Teachers. She glimmered in her periwinkle gown on the stage with musicians behind her.

As Rory puts it, “These are My People.” and Oma looked right at home. Music is in them. They hear it when most of us cannot. Melodies and rhythms are consistent friends. To be with others who understand their language is pure beauty. For Oma to be recognized and honored for her passion was well overdue.

A brilliant musician of voice and piano, but even more so she is a guide, a guru, a master of teaching music to those who believe they are incapable. She quickly reveals to them their beauty within. My mom, my teacher, and one of my greatest friends, has brought many, of any age, into the company of the clouds through music. Conducting her first choir at the age of twelve, it was evident early in her life that she was to teach many how to speak the language of angels.

I remember going to Sunday night choir practice, a requirement from age five to twelve, where my mom would conduct the range of ages into synchronized melodies and rounds of choruses. Her ability to keep five-year-olds engaged while young teens felt proud and respected at the same time was uncanny. Everyone found their place, knew their contribution, and rarely crossed the “hairy eye ball” or crazy faces she made to keep our attention and focus on her during performance. Parents were amazed, children followed her like the Pied Piper. My mommy, over forty years from her first choir, still has the uncanny ability to unite a room, to make everyone feel a part of the vision, to bring beauty through our ears and tell stories through sound. It is Heaven 101 and she’s conducting the choir.

Rory and Pig were honored to accompany Oma and Papa to the Virginia Symphony at Chrysler Hall in downtown Norfolk. Curling their hair in preparation, snacking between twists, Rory was soon adorned with sparkly shoes and a equally sparkling dress. Pig in a tailored heart-patterned dress and fuchsia bow, they waited impatiently for Papa to arrive.

The chariot brought them to the lobby of Chrysler Hall. Admiring the sparkling chandeliers, testing the plush lobby seats, and getting into her “wiggle snacks” with Papa before the show began, Rory was on cloud nine.

Young musicians from Norfolk Public Schools arrived in classic black concert attire. Poised with beautiful spruce and maple violins and other stringed instruments, they began to play.

The sounds encircling Rory, tickling her ears and flirting with her toes, she couldn’t contain her excitement any longer. I gave her the cue to get down and dance and she didn’t disappoint the crowd.

Twirling, swirling, and swaying to the sounds, the music was all around her. She, like Oma, was with their people.

O sing unto the LORD a new song: sing unto the LORD, all the earth! – Psalms 96:1