After she graduated she moved back to Chicago, danced professionally with the Joseph Holmes Dance Company, met Gerry and got married. I sang at their wedding. We lost touch, never completely out of each other’s life but we had not seen each other in ages. Years went by and now 25 years later I was asked to sing at another momentous occasion: the funeral of their beloved son Tahir.
Tahir was 18 years old. He was smart, funny and well-loved by everyone. He loved music. He sang in the school choir for years. He was a gamer. He was a sweet natured young man full of promise and joy with a huge smile just like his parents. And then he contracted a disease that was so rare that in 2012 only seven cases had ever been reported. They fought for 17 months to save his life. And after several brain surgeries and countless types of treatments they lost that Earthly battle.
It is times like these that one must believe in Heaven.
It is times like these when one asks: “Why?”
Why does life seem so random when it comes to Human tragedy?
Here are two well-educated, great parents who have a wonderful life. They give back to the community, they give to the under-priviledged. Tabatha was dedicated to fitness and health. They have a deep spiritual life dedicated to God. They have a gorgeous home, a good marriage and two wonderful children on the right track towards living full lives. The promise of Tahir was huge. He was college bound, had excellent grades, was never in any kind of trouble yet trouble found him anyway.
I think of songs that are different, songs that mean something to me, songs I know well enough to give a spirited heartfelt performance. I think of Tahir, his joyous life but also his challenges as his body fails him through partial blindness and loss of mobility.
I choose a beautiful deconstructed rendition of The Beatles’ song “Blackbird.” The version I pick is based on a wonderful arrangement created by the now deceased singer Faith Pillow. I had seen her perform it live in Chicago at the now defunct club called Orphans and I never forgot the haunting beauty of her arrangement.
The verse is broken down into sections and taken out of The Beatles’ original 4/4 – 2/4 time signature. As I rehearse, I sing them sparsely, slowly and with an almost free-form approach and I decide to sing it a Capella:
Fly fly fly.
Black bird fly
Fly, fly, fly
Fly, fly.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
For all of your life
All of your life
All – of – your – li- i – ife
chorus
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
I decide that I will sing the chorus in tempo. I will ask the audience to sing it with me. I will teach it to them. That is how I will get the audience participation that Tabatha requests.
I start rehearsing the song, but there’s a problem. Whenever I get to the lyrics:
For all of your life
All of your life
I start to weep uncontrollably and I can barely continue.
This is going to be very difficult to do.
Tab and Gerry send a car for me to get to the service. The car picks me up and on the way to the South Side I keep repeating to myself:
“You are not going to cry. You are not going to break down during this song.”
Remember what Elton John said about singing “Candle in The Wind” at Princess Diana’s funeral:
‘Don’t sing a wrong note. Be stoic. Don’t break down and just do it to the best you can possibly do it without showing any emotion whatsoever’
Yeah, Right!
It’s not that I am shy about showing open emotion in front of an audience but on an occasion like this I might get too filled up with emotion and I start to weep, and at those times, my nose fills with snot and I physically can not sing well. And the thought of stopping the song to blow my nose is unacceptable. And it is important that I sing well for Tabatha and Gerry.
I arrive at the Bryn Mawr Community Church and am greeted immediately by a young writer named Marco Anthony whom I keep running into at various events throughout Chicago. Yay – a familiar face.
“This is my church” he says!
He is one of the greeters and directs me to the reception. I walk into a large room filled to capacity with people of all ages and races. It’s a Black Church on the South Side but you couldn’t tell by this group represented here. It’s a beautiful sight. There are hundreds of people here, the room is a buzz with energy and tears. Tabatha, Gerry and Talia (their 20 year old daughter who is also a dancer) stand in a receiving line greeting guests.
Tabatha is radiant, beautifully dressed and greets me warmly. She is calm and composed. That’s Tabatha, strong and practical. Gerry exclaims upon seeing me. His face shows the heartache beneath but he is also smiling.
I move to a seat amongst the crowd which has now spilled into another room. It’s wonderful people watching. It’s a diverse combination: church folks like I recall from my church-going days of childhood, students, artists, intellects, hip people, stylishly dressed, in jeans, in suits, an entire choir dressed in long black evening gowns and dress shirts and slacks, dreads and sculptural nappy hair like mine are everywhere. There’s laughter and chatter; weeping and hugs. There’s a slide show depicting Tahir’s life in photographs. There’s Caribbean and Jazz music playing in the background. It’s beautiful.
It distracts me from my worry that I won’t be able to finish the song without breaking down.
The whole event has been organized by Miss Efe (pronounced E-Fay) She is Tab’s former dance instructor at Joseph Holmes and her Godmother. I’ve only texted with her and I am thrilled when we finally meet. She’s a petite spitfire of indeterminate age. She hands me a very helpful and detailed timeline of the service. Her unlined face is gorgeous, her attitude is determined but gracious – think Lena Horne. I love her immediately.
The service begins, I sit in the side section of the church with the 40+ members of the Whitney Young High School Choir.
The service opens with the choir. They perform a classical hymn and as this is a competition choir – their performance is flawless and beautiful.
That about does me in right then and there.
Then Gerry talks about Tahir, he keeps it light and full of joyful remembrances. He tells how he got even closer to Tahir through this journey. The sweetness of their relationship breaks my heart. I am amazed at his composure.
Next is Tabatha, who speaks full of a mother’s love. She gives an eloquent, beautiful telling of the journey they went on trying to save Tahir’s life and how they always had hope, faith and courage. She shares some of the intimacies of Tahir’s suffering, state of mind and his ongoing cheerfulness. Her voice breaks with emotion as she thanks everyone for coming. I decide then – as I’m shaking to contain outright sobs – that there is no way on this Earth I can just get up and sing anything.
Then Talia performs an emotional dance she choreographed for her brother. She’s a beautiful girl, strong and graceful. I marvel at how she looks so much like her mother so many years ago at the very same age.
Just cover me with roses, cause I am done!
My song follows this beautiful dance. A young Sister sees my emotional state, comes over to me and holds my hand:
I tell her:
I don’t think I can do this without falling apart!
“Don’t worry, you got this!”
Efe breaks up the program by asking everyone to turn to someone they don’t know and share how they know the family. After a few minutes she cues me to begin.
Efe has instructed to me to begin by telling my story with the Koylass Family. So I go up and I stand in front of the congregation. I share my story of how I lucked into Tabatha and Gerry’s lives. Then I say as my voice breaks:
I’m gonna try to sing this, but I need your help. I’m going to teach you the chorus and I want you to sing it with me.
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
And they sang it with me, bolstered by that beautiful choir of young people from Whitney Young High School.
We repeat the chorus at the end. I ask them to raise their voices and then I direct them to bring it down almost to a whisper.
And that’s how I fulfilled Tab’s wish to engage the audience.
And I got through the song.
I let the acoustics of the church and my voice and the great love I felt for this family envelope me.
I am always honored when a dear friend asks me to sing at a funeral of a loved one. I get so nervous because my performance at times like these is important to me. I walk out and I try to sing better and with as much heart and love as I can conjure. It is the only true gift I can give to them.
Four of Tahir’s friends come up and share their memories. They are a diverse group of young people and have known him since childhood.
The choir returns to sing after the minister gives his eulogy.
They choose an upbeat silly ditty entitled “Bagels & Biscuits” (Tahir’s favorite song) with hand motions that sends everyone back to high school and choir. It makes us all smile and even laugh.
It’s Perfect.
After the service the group emerges en masse from the church. We cross the street to release dozens of balloons into the air in Tahir’s honor. We stand in a huge circle and after a few words, we let them go and they lift up in one solid group of color, higher and higher until they disappear into a clear blue sky.
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
Fly, Fly Fly.
