She is There

Commissioned by Michelle and Ed Andrews.
Celebrating the lives of three remarkable women for their legacy of love, determination and wisdom…they are with us always.

Poet’s Notes

I’ve sometimes felt that sending a poem into the world is like putting a message in a bottle and casting it out to sea. You never know where or how—or even if—a poem might land. So when my friend, Michelle Andrews, reached out to tell me this poem had landed with her, I was so touched.

I wrote the poem at a retreat at the Indigenous-run Nakoda Lodge near Mount Yamnuska in the Kananaskis Valley of the Rocky Mountains. I had made friends with one of the participants who is mentioned in the poem in her various roles. As a palliative care nurse, she had spent time with the dying, and she showed me how she cradled the hands of those facing such a huge transition by gently tracing the lines in my outstretched palm. Floating on the lake under the great bowl of the sky and in the reflection of this grand mountain, the tender encounter with this wise and wonderful nurse/woman/healer, all this actually happened. The part about my mother on the Great Bear/Big Dipper constellation—here’s the background. I was 25 when my mother died suddenly and unexpectedly. I was newly married and just barely able to withstand such a loss. After she died, the family gathered to spread her ashes on the ocean near her home on Denman Island. Somehow, I decided to imaginatively place her on the star of the outer lip of the cup of the Big Dipper—mostly because it’s a constellation I can easily locate in the night sky. My children and grandchildren all know this and often when we’re together we’ll look up and the kids will say, “Hi Grandmére!” One night not too long ago, the cousins were gathered around a campfire and our eldest told them about this little ritual. As the cousins looked up at the Big Dipper, a shooting star travelled right through the cup. Well, hard not to see that as a sign. It reminds me how our relationships continue after death.

I used the broken lines of the poem to try to capture a sense of floating, of water, of lullaby. I wanted the sensuality of touch to permeate the poem—in the music of the words and in the actual touching of these two women—how that ritual of touch connects them across generations (grandmothers, mothers)—generations of caregivers known and unknown, and how the dark—literal and symbolic—is part of that connection. In this time where we see that tenderness and compassion are in such short supply, the poem calls for more gentle encounters with grace.

I am so honoured that Michelle chose this poem, and I can see why it fit for her. She wanted a poem that honours the intergenerational connection of all the kin-mothers of her life. What a rare privilege it is to hear my words translated by composer Laura Hawley into such soulful music and carried by the beautiful voices of the Da Camera Singers.

Composer’s Notes

It has been a tremendous honour to set this beautiful text for my dear friends, Michelle and Ed Andrews, to honour their loved ones. The musical setting has been largely influenced by the poetry, of course, but also by Jannie’s story above. You’ll hear, for instance, the star she refers to above in the final chord of the piece.

The opening section unfolds with the “ascent of the mountain” in the piano, moving through the call of the friend into a lullaby section. I’ve included a quote from “Swing low, sweet chariot” honours Michelle, who has sung this song to comfort loved ones – I know this song has special meaning for her. Overall, the piece follows an arch form, reflecting the arc of lives fully lived.

I encourage performers to take a flexible and expressive approach with the rubato, allowing the music to breathe and move forward even more than I’ve indicated, if desired.