in everywhere we look

mewithoutYou has been my number one absolute favorite band of my heart for over eight years. Even referring to them as “my favorite band” feels inadequate—it harkens back to some silly girl’s sappy totes fav band (which they were in high school.), but it’s become something much more than that. Over the years, these gentlemen have influenced my life in a real way. They have seriously shaped my life, my thought process, my art and life philosophy in a way that words cannot begin to capture. I have grown with them through every stage of their music, and every album has contoured the years in which it dwelled. They are at the top of my list of “Can Do No Wrong”. Musically they are eclectic and disobedient; lyrically they are excruciatingly profound and yet the simplicity and folkloric influences manage to stray away from pretentious preaching. It’s a lifelong exploration of mysticism and mortality and childlike wonder. Their collective work is like a strange mirror I’ve been staring into for years.

Tonight they have a show at the Great Scott in Boston, to which I bought tickets for months ago. Obviously I am unable to go tonight, which really bums me out. It’s the first show of theirs that I’ve missed in 8 years.

And today, unbelievably, they were in my hospital room, laughing and singing and tapping on my juice glass and mugs for percussion. It was a moment unparalleled. I shook all of their hands, apparently, as they came in, but I don’t remember the first few minutes because I was so in shock. I can’t believe that even happened. It happened. Holy. I was having a bit of a difficult day, honestly: feeling weepy and even a little bit angry this morning. I had another bone marrow biopsy today (tramp stamp #3), and I think I was more nervous about it than I had realized—it decides whether I am here for maybe one more week, or three with more chemo. I also shaved the rest of my tiny hairs off this morning, they were still coming out and making me all itchy. I was feeling dejected and lonely, I knew I was missing the show tonight, I wanted out of this whole thing, it was all too much. I knew days like that would spring upon me without warning—that seems to be the way in which bad days operate. I wanted my secret escape hot air balloon. I was in desperate need of some cheer. Did I ever receive more than I could hold!

We sang, we clapped, we laughed about chain emails from grandmas, we had a moment shared over Martin Buber. (Here’s a nugget revealed today! Ten Stories’ first song, February 8, 1878, is Martin Buber’s birthday! WHAT?!). They asked if there was anything I especially wanted to hear, and of course I couldn’t think of anything, I wanted it all, they could have played anything. So they played three of their songs: Timothy Hay, In a Sweater Poorly Knit, and A Stick a Carrot and String. It was immaculate. The face of transcendence. 

My dear friends and family somehow put this surprise together for me, multiple people contacting them and working it out and I had absolutely no idea about any of it (apparently I am quite gullible and oblivious! who knew?! this is good because I love surprises). I still can’t believe that it happened, I have butterflies in my stomach when I think about it. And it’s not because I am a very star-struck sort of person, because I’m not. I am just so floored by the kindness, that they came out of their way to come visit me. I am utterly humbled by their presence. They are great artists to me, artists that have made me a better person. I am so happy to have met them and shared some precious time. Who could ask for more? I am full up. How can I ever be empty again? When I am sad, which I will be in the future, somehow, seemingly inextricably—someone take my face in their hands and tenderly remind me of the hour today when I was full up.

thank you Aaron, Michael, Rick, Greg, Brandon, Mike and Mike(Ike). You really made a moment today solidified in this girl's mind. It was important and lovely and meaningful and human. I will carry your kindness.

I will also be looking for your a cappella Billy Joel cover album, thanks for the taste of that goodness.

in everywhere we look, in everyone we meet, in every blade of grass, it doesn’t matter what you’ve done, there’s a love that never changes, Allah, Allah, Allah---