Thank you all for coming
My God there are so many
It’s comforting my loved ones
Are in such company

It’s great to see everyone
Some I haven’t seen for years
Can I ask you for a moment?
Please hold back your tears

Under a canopy of roses
Angels came to me
Kissed my cheek, took my hand
Set my soul free

I know I owe some answers
So hard to explain
First know that I’m happy
Free from any pain

Torn between two worlds
I hope you’ll forgive me
If only I had known
My own destiny

Focused on imperfections
No one ever should
Feel they don’t belong
I just never understood

Under a canopy of roses
Angels came to me
Kissed my cheek, took my hand
Set my soul free

I know I owe some answers
So hard to explain
First know that I’m happy
Free from any pain

I’ll visit on occasion
Even choreograph the stars
Be there when you need me most
I’ll never be too far

Please don’t shed a tear for me
Or for what keeps us apart
If I could; I’d right all the wrongs
Oh God…. please know
…. I never meant to break your heart

I’m so sorry… if it helps at all… I’m happy
I’m so sorry… don’t cry for me… I’m happy

Strange how you never know who you’re going to run into or how a few words can spark an entire series of events. I was having lunch one day with a local group and happened to get there a little early. I sat at the end of a long table and looked out over Lake Ontario while I was waiting for the others to arrive. As they started filling the seats, we said our hellos and strangely enough, the seat right beside me stayed vacant. Finally a petite and slightly older lady named Joanne sat down and we began to chat. It was the same old small talk… how are you, where are you from, what do you do, how about the weather; I find I answer more questions than I ask at these things, but I’m always interested in meeting new people. One of the topics that came up was a tragic event where several children were involved; everyone knew the story and we all agreed how sad and senseless it was. It was in December and I happen to comment on how I thought the ones that leave us around this time of year are the most special, and I had written a song about the event. Joanne immediately said she’d love to read it so we exchanged email addresses; I sent it to her a couple days later. I never thought any more of it until she responded; asking if I could be more specific about my comment on people dying around Christmas time. She asked if we could meet somewhere for a coffee to discuss it further; so I agreed.

Joanne was an interesting woman and very sweet. She had gone through a series of misfortunes over the past years and was struggling to make sense of it all. The biggest and most traumatic event was the suicide of her teenage son; right around Christmas time. I could only imagine what it was like to lose a child and the pain she must have been feeling; continuously asking herself why, how could this have been avoided, what could she have done? To make matters worse, she was the one who found him and his many notes explaining his feelings. She mentioned how popular he was, how talented he was both in music and dance, and what a kind and gentle soul he had. She also mentioned how she could always feel his presence, how on her birthday she looked out from her balcony and the stars were lit up like a light show, how only he could have created it for her; she had never seen such a beautiful arrangement. Her son was so popular that buses of students showed up for his funeral. Joanne, not wanting anyone to go without a rose, ordered hundreds of them so each kid could have one. During the service, the kids from each side of the aisle extended their rose over her head as she walked to the front.

As she spoke I was putting the pieces together and strangely enough; I had an explanation. I told Joanne my theories on lost angels and I thought her son was exactly that; a lost angel. Unfortunately he didn’t know it and was torn between two worlds; his present life and the one his soul knew, always feeling like he didn’t fit in here, forgetting his purpose, and longing to be somewhere else; where he thought he could be more help. I felt that the Christmas season was the time of year when God needs the most help, so he calls home his special angels. Her son’s soul knew this and wanted desperately to help, to be part of the world it once knew; there was nothing she could have done to stop him. Sadly, it wasn’t his destiny to leave so soon and he likely knew it now; that’s why he tries so hard to apologize and tell her he’s ok; even lighting up the sky.

It seemed to give her some comfort knowing how special her son was, that there was an explanation for the way he felt, and perhaps I was right; he was a lost angel who simply did the wrong thing for the right reasons. As in all occasions when I express my thoughts on angels, I was sure to tell Joanne that they were just that; my own thoughts. She was a traumatized mother looking for an explanation and I was simply someone who thought I had one. Why she chose me as her source is anyone’s guess, but I don’t question it; I seldom do. When I trace back the steps of how I went to lunch that day; even though I had no desire to, how the seat beside me remained vacant until Joanne arrived, and how a simple comment set off a series of events… I have to assume it was meant to happen. Joanne commented on how the song I wrote made her feel like her son was talking to her directly; “that’s exactly how he would have worded it”. Was her son looking for a voice to share his thoughts; perhaps so, that’s why I wrote the song from his perspective. What other explanation could one have for how everything turned out… perhaps he choreographed that as well.