It didn’t always feel this way. Ritually, you would think that sitting down for the moment and having a cup of coffee would center you and allow space to gather yourself. Today, particularly of all days, it felt different. Normally, you would’ve stayed at home, your place of solace. Today, however, you felt in your heart for space to be amongst people and bring your guitar. Looking in the mirror for a moment, you observed all the scars unseen by the naked eye. Spirited away to times that developed the image being gazed upon. It was time and a story must be told, even in song.

Today, in particular, was the day of someone who had always been by your side, physically and spiritually. Arriving at the cafe, you gazed upon many familiar faces you had seen time and again when you wanted coffee. They all smiled when your presence entered the hall and as you walked towards the stage, you could hear whispers of “thanks for coming” and “good luck”.

Guitar fastened to you, microphone at the ready, you stared off into the spirited realm you had bore witness to before. You closed your eyes, took a breath, and began strumming. Softly and slowly, feeling the strings, hearing the notes for the beginning steps of your audiences’ journey into your story. Confidence growing, anxiety depleting and stress unblocking, you felt free as the birds that you enjoyed watching as you had practiced this song.

The pace quickened just a little, and you had found your voice. Words after another, breath unending and bravery in your heart, you sang of the story of the loved one you treasured most. Told of the times of building you up, teaching you the lessons and the farewells that were given after each encounter. Then, the final lesson, when they told you that nothing lasts forever. But only the memories, experiences and emotions that were created. “Fondest of farewells” you cried, struggling to hold back your own tears. Looking upon the audience, you felt a brief silence, and all they could do was cry.