The Vineyards

I did not write before because I would be forced to wish a Merry Christmas to everyone, which I did not wish to do, because the next post should bring unfortunate news that did not at all match a wish of Merry Christmas.

I do not remember the day, which I believe is fortunate (but I think it was on December 16th). After a very stressful week, full of nights spent awake, driving all over the city to get medicine, many exams, many attempts at finding out what was wrong, Charlotte, my Maltese dog, died. She was not put down; we tried until the last minute. When the veterinarians agreed there was no chance of recovery at all they did not need to do it. She suffered more during that week, that morning, than I did in my whole life.

I was at school when it happened, only heard it in the afternoon when I called home to ask if they would need the car to take her to any more exams. I was not warned before because I had a final test to do - and indeed, I would not have been able to do it if I had known.

ruby was with me when I heard, a fact for which I was tremendously grateful. I got her shirt a bit wet, but she did not mind.

I wish I could write this in a completely different way, as Flines, my sister did. She wrote a Christmas post, and midway in it mentioned she wished everyone to be happy. "My mother, my father, my brother, Sumi, Milu, and Char (who is somewhere in heaven wagging her tail for me)." Simple, adorable, makes one smile when reading even if it breaks such sad news. Flines is very good at writing. I should watch out.

Two weeks passed already, everything is fine again, the holidays (for other people; I barely have a week off, blasted be those unionists) kept everyone occupied and with their minds full. So no worried comments, all four of you. As Flines said, Char just went to wag her tail at us somewhere else. I hope she is getting along fine with Misha.

December 30th now. I can barely wait to switch the calendar. The new one is themed "Polar Animals", it should be a delight to look at for the next pack of months.

Last Tuesday, December 7th, at about 10pm, I got on stage with nearly two hundred other people in the biggest concert hall in the country to sing the most well known piece of classical music ever. Beethoven's 9th Symphony, 4th Movement: "Ode to Joy".

The Tenors, among whom I stood, were to the left and back, behind the Contraltos; the Sopranos were to the right, in front of the Basses. Basses? Ah, whatever are called those tall strong guys with grave voice that always play the villains or some secondary character in operas, and are paid less. Those, yes.

The stage was packed. Because the choir area is too far away from the orchestra area it was decided to put the choir on the stage. And the choir seats, behind the stage, were all sold. So we had people looking at us from behind, and probably not hearing a thing. I doubt any of them paid any attention, but if they did they might had noticed one of the Tenors had a ring in his right hand that was identical to a ring in the right hand of one of the Sopranos - assuming they could see the Sopranos at all from there, not to mention their hands.

I knew very little about choirs before I joined the school's choir. But I remember, whenever I listened to any piece with a choir, that I was quite sure of one thing: that those women singing with the high pitched voices must be saying the most beautiful lines, because obviously they represent the speech of angels - most classical tunes being religious and all.

When I joined the choir, most of what I had always assumed was proven wrong. The lyrics are nearly the same for everyone (except the soloists), so the women with high pitched voices do not represent the speech of angels. Honestly, I still think they do, but it is better not to argue.

But whether the Sopranos represent der Cherub that steht vor Gott or not, one among them was wearing in her right hand a ring identical to that Tenor's. These two rings say "14-11-03" inside of them, which, in Brazilian date notation, means November 14th, 2003. That was the day where the Tenor woke up quite early, drove in a completely different direction than usual, parked near a commercial area and paced outside for an hour waiting for the flower shops to open. And the six pink and six red roses kindly waited in their full beauty for almost four hours, when they finally found their way to the one they were meant to.

It was a wonderful year, completely different than all years before - which were looking very similar to each other. It was a year where things worked, where I found support in someone and gave support in return - and together we walked forward and dealt with issues and reached goals neither of us had dared to face or try before.

On December 7th, almost two hundred people who practiced hard for many months had a big achievement to celebrate, after getting up on stage and doing a great job in singing their Freude schöner Götterfunken. Two of those people had even more. It would have been bad writing by Fate's hand if it had been exactly on November 14th, but even though almost a month late that concert crowned a beautiful year. And even though there were two hundred people on that stage, and about half of them were directly between that Tenor and that Soprano, those rings showed how close together they were.

A few months of choir lessons and a presentation taught me the women with high pitched voices are called Sopranos and they do not represent angels. Considering the past year, however, I must say there is an angel among them, after all.

- An angel with butterfly wings.

Happy thirteenth mensiversary, ruby-chan.