Life goes on

Life goes on - The journey to the USA begins

I had to conduct and teach in Seattle so I had to leave for the USA the day after our service for Heather.

There were many things to do and much to organise before I left. There were all my responsibilities at the Conservatorium to attend to, and the summer program I had to prepare to ensure I was ready before I went as I was not returning until after Christmas.

There was no time to grieve and I convinced myself there was no need as Heather was out of her pain.

Hultgren conducting in a workshop

There was no planning to be done because she had died in England and her friend Jo was organising everything over there, such as the funeral, held in December after the coroner's inquest.

A pauper's funeral

Done by the local council, because she had no money

She had told people she had no family!

That hurt too.

On the journey I checked email, as I needed to know what was going on at work; it was all part of my obligations there. I busied myself, as you can do in a performance environment. Even the connections with work back in Australia were not onerous or distracting.

Doing performances and being surrounded by people took the angst away - for a while. Julie, Emma and James would meet me in Chicago and this performance time would be for me a time of reflection and focus. Focus, no tears, no 'thinking', no dread...

But there was that one time as I sat in my room in the hotel in Seattle...

I was overwhelmed with sorrow. It was a desperate feeling. I screamed out in the room and bellowed my pain and anger and despair.

"Why God, why!?"

I called Julie, I don't know why - she couldn't hold me at that distance. Then I went to work with the young musicians I had been working with over the few days previously. That was such a strengthening experience for me as I poured my emotional dislocation into music-making. They just kept smiling at me, so unaware.

I transited through Chicago, where I was to meet my family. It was horrible waiting that one night for them to arrive. I had done so many times in other places but this was the worst wait I could remember. Their flight had been cancelled, and then they were not on the next one. I couldn't find them in transit because the airlines won't give out information about passengers. "How is family to find out?" I pleaded. "What about a disaster has occurred; how would I know?" I had sat in an airport lounge once and watched the breaking news announcement of an airliner crash in New York. Had that happened? It was hours since they were supposed to arrive.

Around the terminal I went, and around again, and again. I walked, and then went on the tram; walked, and then on the tram - and then they arrived.

The emotion was all mingled and mangled up. It is a wash of grief, relief, joy and aching sorrow. There was embarrassment - was I sobbing again? I was comforted being with my family, overnight in Chicago and then for the rest of the US trip.

Family, friends and work

I worked in the first week of December in St Paul Minnesota, at the University of St. Thomas, where Matthew George is Professor of Music and Department Chair. He has commissioned me many times to write for his groups (Bright Sunlit Morning, Masada, Of Questions and Answers and Whirr, Whirr, Whirr!!!).

(Looking out of the George's home into the snow covered street outside)

Matt had asked if I could visit and conduct again. He didn't know of Heather's passing. He and his wife Jennifer and their kids had become close family friends and we spent a week there. A loving family; to be in their home and sharing with them was a comfort indeed.

Sharing coffee with Bruce Pearson at Elk River, Minnesota.

Similarly, the week we spent at the home of Bruce and Dee Pearson in the following week also assisted me to 'get through' this time. Being with the Pearson's was an immense blessing. They live in Elk River Minnesota and they are such wonderful friends who support us and love us dearly. Each day we shared and each day I wept a little - weeping and apologising; weeping and apologising - like walking, and on to the tram at Chicago airport; round and round and round.

Jo Cassidy emailed me while we were at the Pearson's home.

From: jocassidy
To: Ralph Hultgren

Ralph

Thank you for kind e-mail. I have today been given the date of Heather's funeral which will be 13.00hrs (our time) on Monday 08/12/03. I would dearly love to have something from you (and your family) to read over here. Apart from the date nothing new has transpired as yet as the council do not want to enter Heather's flat until after the funeral - as a mark of respect. I miss her very much & know to some degree how you all must be feeling. Please know that I think of you all often and hope that you are coping as well as possible under the circumstances.
Take good care of yourself & your family
Jo

Then Jo told us more and it just pushed the emotions over the edge again. In her email on the same day to Ross and Leonie she advised them of the details regarding the funeral and added:

From: jocassidy
To: Ross & Leonie Hultgren

We are all having a collection and are to buy a tree to plant (with a memorial plaque) in our local gardens which is attached to our Horniman's museum where it will hopefully continue to grow & give pleasure, shelter & shade to many others for a long time to come…
I think of you all often knowing you miss her as much as I. Do you have anything you would like me to read at Heather's funeral - I have already emailed Ralph that I would very much like to have anything that you have - I would try & do it the justice it deserves & would be a representation of you all.
You are in my thoughts - please take good care of your goodselves & family
Jo

I sent the materials we had used for our service at church so Jo could use them if she saw fit. Reading that email reminded me of the separation I sometimes felt from my brother too.

"How was Ross?" I still wondered.

We had never been close as siblings are meant to be. I loved him and his family dearly and I knew he cared for us too, but we were not close. Yet I wanted to be with him and talk about her and cry with my family. Julie, the scallies and I, staying with Bruce and Dee; I was surrounded by those who cared and yet I felt desperately alone.

Where was God in this? I knew He was there and I trusted Him to make of this time something which would be of benefit to others, but what about me, right now - it hurt so much!

The email brought back pain but I wanted such messages to be there, to have some connection back to Heather all the time. I wanted her to call, or walk back in the room - grumpy or not.

I did email Jo and noted the order of service and the Bible readings that we used for Heather's memorial service. Just seeing that on the screen again...memories of memories and the endeavour to chase away the pain in that service.

At the Pearson's I sat and read through that order of service, the Bible portions and the song verses, at the time when the service would have been taking place in England.

I felt terribly alone.

"Where was God in this?" I kept asking myself.

On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. (Psalm 63:6)

Again, through the watches of the night, I pondered this heartbreak. I knew that tragedy seldom comes to one person in isolation from others. The weeping of one is usually accompanied by those who also grieve. Sadness shared is like the burden shared - halved. But sadness is endured in the heart and mind and is dealt with, most often, by one's self.

Where was God?

Chicago to work

It was then, on the 14th of December, that we moved on to Chicago for the Midwest International Band and Orchestra Director's Conference. December 14th, our wedding anniversary and a day we had often enjoyed together in Chicago. That anniversary was much more subdued than most.

But the trip to the Midwest Clinic always kept me busy! It that time 'busy' was good for me.

(The exhibit hall at the Midwest Conference)

At the conference I listened as conductors came up and told me how what they were doing was "so important" because it effected the rating of their group at state contest.

"I need a piece that will help as get a rating 1" one demands. "Do you have a really difficult piece for my senior high band - a 5 or a 6?"

Their posture suggested the request was matched by ego but I wondered about the capacity, both of the band and conductor.

"Sure, I will show you a couple," I said, more out of politeness than in interest on this occasion.

I wondered at the point of it all. I know that music education is a vital part of making a well–rounded human being but all of this chatter, the intellectual 'white noise' of their opinions was sounding like a 'clanging cymbal'; it was hollow and unnecessary.

And so was I.

Back home - Christmas, family and back to work

We were back home in Australia for Christmas Day and the joy of family all around. There was much chat about Heather but the family's tears seemed to have dried up somewhat though mine hadn't really begun to flow yet, not in true mourning.

I had a week's vacation where the family spent time at Julie's Mum and Dad's home at Peregian. It was always a delight there and they were very thoughtful about not talking too much about Heather except to wonder about 'why'.

Don't we all wonder about 'why'?

I then went back to work on the 2nd of January.

What a journey from the 17th of November. So much accomplished, so many people met and worked with, so much family and friendship time engaged in and so many thoughts about her - but still I hadn't cried the cry of despair and loss; the protracted bellowing of anguish I had experienced with the passing of my parents in years past. I usually 'tear-up' easily; a soppy movie, a beautiful baby. All of these things fill my eyes with tears but so far there had been little shed for my sister. Apart from that one lonely outburst in Seattle there had been none of the sobbing that pounds and rips.

In January I taught a two week Summer School for postgraduate teachers to develop their skills in conducting and instrumental music pedagogy. The little time between that and the following teaching semester was easily filled in with preparations for that as well as email and some friendly chats.

Yes, friendships, family and work acted to take away the thinking. I had been 'getting away from it' but it meant I was not coming to terms with 'it'. I had given myself reasons to not address the grief but they were excuses - I was in some form of denial.