My dear friend and fellow fiddler Ruth joined me to play at the funeral service for the mother of a friend of a friend a few weeks ago. Ruth has a open stout heart I trust, and I love her harmonies.
We could see the spire of the old country church above the July tall cornfields south of Minneapolis. A rainstorm had gone through the night before and washed everything fresh, making the air moist. Everything green seemed to be breathing deep breaths.
It was an honor to be in the presence of the dignity and deep feeling as the minister led the service outside at graveside, and family members spoke to their memories of their beloved mother, aunt and mother-in-law.
We started the service with three Swedish folk tunes as people were settling into chairs that had been set up on the grass. Their mother was Swedish, and her family members had farmed nearby and were some of the founders of the church.
I ventured a poignant Finnish funeral march I love at a moment in the middle of the service, and then Ruth and I finished up with a florid Swedish tune, the harmonies twining around each other.
Then, we went ahead, down to the church basement, and played another set of folk tunes in front of the piano as family and friends came down for the lunch that was prepared.
Afterward, the son who asked us to be there said we were “the glue that held it all together.” Another man came up to us at the lunch and said our playing and the setting reminded him of the film, Sweet Land. If you haven't seen this film, you are in for a real treat. It is a beloved first feature from Minnesota director Ali Selim. I've seen it three times and I'd go back again.
Again, it was an utter honor to be in the presence of such dignity and tenderness, and to serve at these moments of family transition and meaning. For the musician, it is a treat to play for the love of the music to such tender hearts.
