Julian, 7. Black hair. Twinkly cocoa ojos. Wiggly.
I. Was. Captured.
By his conversational eloquence. A wicked combination of gifted 2nd grader and ancient mystic wisdom keeper.
By his unwavering unapologetic eye contact. Imploring me to see him. Daring me not to look away. An unspoken test. I passed.
“Julian, what do you know about why you came here today?” Can’t remember. “Did you know that everyone who comes to visit me in this house knows someone who died? Usually it was someone they loved a lot.”
Subject change. Trust the Process. Trust the kid.
“Hey, Is that your piano?”
“Nope. Belongs to the house.”
“Do you know how to play that piano?”
“Sure I do.”
“Will you play it …now?”
“Sure but you’ve gotta tell me what to play.”
Julian eased over next to his mom. I watched him pat her arm before he tapped into his kid perfect mojo and skipped to the piano bench. He motioned for me to sit. I was thinking this would be a Twinkle Twinkle or Dum Dum Ditty kind of day.
“Over the Rainbow. Can you play that one?”
I’m not sure I had ever played Over the Rainbow”. I noodled around for the right notes. Julian cheered me on. “Yes! That’s it”. “Close”. “Closer”. “You really CAN play it!”.
The maestro requested a musical introduction. I played. Julian swayed to the beat. He closed his ojos and raised both hands to direct our invisible orchestra. Then he started singing. In perfect pitch.
Somewhere over the rainbow way up high
There’s a land that I’ve heard of once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true
Julian tells me, “That’s really good! Keep going!”
Some day I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me
He sighs. Deep. Holy. Eyes closed. Still directing.
Somewhere over the rainbow blue birds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can’t I?
“Slow down on this part.”
If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow
Why oh why can’t I?
Do that last part again. Sing it with me.
Gracious. With all the salt water running down the back of my throat, I was doing well just to maintain my airway. And he wanted me to sing.
His dad had died a few weeks before. Julian didn’t know the details. Now the Gifted Seven Year Old Wisdom Keeper Mystic had questions. He wanted his mom to tell him everything. She didn’t know how. And that’s how Julian and I came to occupy the same piano bench for one extraordinary afternoon.
We. Rocked. Out. DUDE we rocked.
We sang loudly and shamelessly. We pretend glued our butts to the piano bench and danced. We practiced our vibrato. All the while, Julian’s mom was in the next room figuring out how to explain her husband’s suicide to their only child. She was terrified of messing him up. Saying or doing the wrong thing. She’d did fine. And so did he.
He already knew. I saw it in his eyes. I heard it in his voice. When he touched his mama’s arm, I saw it then, too.
His old soul understood Dad was far away…resigned acceptance. His heart, though, was another story. Julian wanted nothing more than to fly to the sky and see his daddy.
Little kids with deep wounds have magical powers. They make sense of the senseless. They transform pain into wild behaviors with a message.
Wiggly at school. I’m. Talking too much. Saving. Day dreaming. Myself.
Forgot backpack. My. Fight on playground. Heart’s. Hiding under table. Broken.
“Play it again. Do the first verse this time.”
The first verse. Crap. What’s the first verse? “Julian, I don’t know the first verse.”
“I’ll tell it to you.”
A thousand times. I’m sure I’ve heard or sung Over the Rainbow a thousand times. Never once did I catch the first verse.
Julian closed his eyes and sang…
When all the world is a hopeless jumble
And the raindrops tumble all around
Heaven opens a magic lane
When all the clouds darken up the skyway
There’s a rainbow highway to be found
Leading from your window pane
To a place behind the sun
Just a step beyond the rain
“Play it again!”
“Play the whole thing now”
“I’ll sing the first verse and then you do the intro and then we’ll sing together.”
“Are you crying?”
“Play!!!!”
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Have a DARN good week.
Martha. Transcendent. Spirtual. Blessed. I am beyond grateful for this post, this little boy, and his story.
Thanks, J. Transcendent. Spiritual. Blessed. Exactly…..That’s how I felt. Magical, holy moment I won’t forget.
Magic. Gorgeous. Thank you!
This is just a wonderful! Thank you for this inspiration.
Martha, thank you for sharing this experience that so many would describe simply as “extraordinary”. The extraordinary part is that he found you, an angel, to interpret his pain through. We as adults would be wise to open our minds to the intuitiveness and wisdom our children possess. Not only would we be wiser, we would be much less stressed out and over protective. Thank you for really listening to Julian, and hopefully to teaching others to really listen to what their kids are saying and feeling. You are truly an amazing woman, Martha!
Sweet sweet sweet story. We call that song the night night song. Sweet dreams little Julian.