A spiritual whistle story - a bit long sorry

Whistle
1

Last summer, friends, my mother was dying. She was ill for many months and was as helpless as a baby for the last year of her life. I had scheduled and paid for a week at Rocky Mountain Fiddle Camp in August, shortly before which she took a turn for the worst.

She told me she wanted me to go and enjoy myself, so I had to choose between being there for her and dad and doing as she wished. I chose to go, for a number of reasons I won’t go into here unless your responses to this prompt me to.

At fiddle camp my whistle teacher was Seamus Mac Conaonaigh of Galway. I won’t review his classes in this post, but I would take another class from him if I got the chance. Some of the students in my class insisted he teach us an aire, not a very easy thing to do. For some reason, he agreed and we voted between two he offered us. I voted for the winner and it turned out to be called the Parting of Friends (only in Gaelic and I can’t spell it without a bit paper hunt).

When camp was over I raced home in time to spend two more days with Mom. She was comatose but was nonetheless aware of my presence.

The morning after she finally went on to peace, my family visited her church to plan the memorial service with the minister. I mentioned at that meeting to the curate (assistant pastor) that I wanted to play an aire in the sanctuary (a favorite place of Mom’s). She gathered up my family and we went in. I played it a couple of times and we left. As we did, the curate, a musician, spoke softly to me to come back after our other meeting and find her.

I did. She led me back into the santuary and said. Ok play that again. when I did she said. Again. And Again. I played that aire perhaps thirty times over. And as I did something remarkable happened.

I began to feel I was pushing my feelings out the whistle. Singing them, throwing them, barfing them?! Out they came. And I could SEE them. They were like ripples in the fabric of the universe.

After a while I was finished. My helper came up and spoke softly with me a few moments then left me there to meditate. I felt so releived you wouldn’t believe.

Now whenever I am feeling sad about or remembering Mom I play that little aire and it comforts me. Thank goodness for music and what it gives us. I’m a religious skeptic in many ways and hope I don’t start anyone preaching their beliefs at me (it won’t work) but I know there is a spiritual side to us humans and I’m no exception. And I know that music is part of that picture. And whistles gave my music a voice.

NancyF

2

Thank you Nancy, that was lovely.

Denny

3

Wonderful story, really wonderful.

You may or may not be a “believer” in a rigidly religious sense, but you sound like a spiritual person nonetheless. You were able to use your music to tap into that spirituality and come to peace with your mother’s passing.
Thanks for sharing this moving tale.

4

They say that the origins of music come from the ‘crying out’ of a person.

There is a scripture in Romans that says the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express’.

This is one of these things that goes beyond our understanding. I say just enjoy it. Music is an amazing thing.

Nacy, thanks for sharing that.

5

Thank you for your story.

6

Thanks Nancy. I’ve been to that spot and music does something right in a way that nothing else can.

7

Thanks for sharing that with us, Nancy.
Music is like all arts, at the beggining it’s a way to express our most deep feelings, then, when we have nothing more to express, it becomes a channel for the nature to express itself :slight_smile:

8

Nancy

Thank you. I think I understand. I’ve been there. Recently.


Best

9

I’ve also been there.

Thank you for sharing, and for helping me to remember.

–James

10

Very beautiful Nancy!! What was the name of the aire?

11

That sounds pretty neat. Could you tell me which chapter and verse that is? I might find it before you can reply but it would make the search easier. :stuck_out_tongue:

-Derek-
might be nice to have as a sig file or to do up as some nice calligraphy.

12

Daniel_Bingamon wrote:

There is a scripture in Romans that says the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express’.


That sounds pretty neat. Could you tell me which chapter and verse that is? I might find it before you can reply but it would make the search easier. > :stuck_out_tongue: >

Romans 8:26 Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.
NKJV

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…sorry double post…

14

Thats a lovely story.


It is my personal belief that you dont nessissarily have to be religious to be spiritual.

15

The aire is (help me gaelic people) Scairnt N’Gompna or close. I couldn’t find it in any of my books even under gan anim.

Nancyf

16

I think most musicians have had those moments when time stands still and you become the music. I know I have. I have even had other people come up to me later and say something like, “where were you just now?”
I am not an outwardly emotional person. Once, after one of those musical moments, someone said to my wife something like, “now I know where he keeps all of his emotions.” It’s a beautiful thing. I wish everyone could feel it at least once.
Mike

17

We, verily, have made music
as a ladder for your souls,
a means whereby they may
be lifted up unto the realm on high;
make it not, therefore,
as wings to self and passion.


It warms my heart to hear storied like this.
Our material lifestyle has, for the most-part,
precluded contact with our own spirits. I
believe that art in general and music in particular
are means to spiritual re-awakening.

Sometimes only poetry or music are capable
of expressing certain intense feelings.

Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
Perhaps you might, at some time, share the
title of the piece you played with us, or even
better, post a recording of it .

18

Found it!

Scaruint na gCompanach (the parting of friends)

here are the abcs with slurred phrases set off by parentheses. Primes are second octave, all F and C are #.

BD’E’—D’(E’F’G’)—G’F’—F’E’—D’(E’F’G’)B’A’F’—E’D’BE’----E’D’BE’----
E’BD’F’—E’E’----BE’----(E’D’BA)BF’----E’D’BE----EFG—(AGF)(GABCD’)—
CD’BAF—F—EDE(FED)EF----F----EDE(FED)E

I"ll try to get it recorded for you guys.

Nancy

19

In many cultures, the word for Spirit is breath.

A thought occured to me:
A whistle is just an inanimate object unless the breath of life goes into it.

20

What a beautiful experience Nancy; thanks for sharing it with us.

Rod