There may come a time
When I will lose you
Lose you as I lose my light
Days falling backward into velvet night
– Paul Simon, Further to Fly, Rhythm of the Saints album
How many times I listened to this song with Dad in the car, on trips, at home. We celebrated the ecstasy of listening to Paul Simon’s Rhythm of the Saints album and he loved this song. We were so blessed to see the tour when Paul played Edmonton, bringing over four drum sets to the stage on a cold -30C night. I remember how we left that concert and didn’t need our coats; Paul had ignited our souls.
I awoke with that familiar takes-your-breath-away aching pain, and these lyrics poured into the hole in my heart.
(Dad wearing Rhythm of the Saints shirt in California, early 90s above)
In July, during the worst of times, I grew extremely ill, and a horrific death rattle in my lungs settled for two long months. Two days before Dad’s Celebration of Life I had a medical crisis and things began to spiral. An unchecked sinus infection was expanding in my skull, with lightning bolts of nerve pain, and my teeth were pushing down so far from the pressure I couldn’t chew.
We’ve never been able to pinpoint the cause of this severe illness, although I did tell ICU staff that it was simply my system failing from crying too much. Early in its onset I lost my sense of smell and taste. It’s not returned. I’ve lost a sense. Actually, I’ve lost two. My metaphysical sense lies dormant. I haven’t been able to tap into the sublime and awe of the Universe, either. Of the two, if I could have one sense back, I’d choose the latter. I long to connect with the rhythm of the Saints and be in tune once more with the great pulsing of the universe.