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Fire and Embers Recently, I had a poignant, sad, joyful and profound experience.
I’m still working on processing the whole thing, through a range of emotions which are still startling me with their depth.
The amount and profusion of these alone were more than enough for a meal for us all.
We savored them as we chatted and enjoyed requested songs from the past which poured from the band.
Then platter after bowl of the main meal were brought forth, each aroma more delicious than the last, the band took a break, and we all indulged and savored the amazing repast.
But there’s strength in numbers, so we walked into the beautiful church hall together…and into a timeless space.) The warmth and beauty of the decorations, the delicious aroma of Armenian food permeating the air, and the familiar sound of treasured songs from our past rolling from the twelve musicians onstage made us feel instantly welcome, although we knew only a handful out of the two hundred and sixty relatives and friends gathered there.
All older now than our memories registered, familiar onstage faces broke into grins as we were recognized.
I and two of my good friends, bellydancers all, who had worked with this man were invited to a very exclusive family gathering, a celebration of his life. (Personally, if they hadn’t gone with me, I wouldn’t have by myself.
He was a virtuoso musician, the oldest brother in a family of Armenian traditional musicians, who played in clubs in and around Boston, Las Vegas, and California.Any bellydancer who played on the same bill knew him as fun and supportive to work with, a respectful gentleman, and someone with a heart of gold.