Sitting, watching my father breathe quietly, machines beeping all around us making noise like scratches in old records... I close my eyes and hear him practicing his songs for his singing lessons. He's in our family room warming up his deep voice, standing so tall and singing the first few words to his favorite song, "Old Man River". It calms me to remember.
If the maestro were to enter the room, the message would certainly be: keep composing, sing loudly and harmonize together. Sing until your breath is gone. Life is your composition.