Channeling Music

I would be an understatement to say I learned A LOT in that first reading!  It certainly validated that there was something to all of these experiences – the hair on the back of my husband’s neck stood up when he heard the part about the blue butterfly!  He remembered how I came home from that trip gushing about the butterflies being a sign, and at the time thinking yeah right.  He didn’t question my impressions nearly as often after that.  Although he did when I decided we should spend a whopping amount of money to record a CD of Grandpa Anderson’s music.  And I guess who wouldn’t think you were kind of nuts to spend a lot of money on something just because a dead guy encouraged you to do it?

As it turns out, he did more than encourage.  I left the notebook by my bed one night and spent the entire night being coached on exactly how to sing “The Last Rose of Summer.”  And then I woke up another morning with this name ringing in my ears: Chancery Olcott.  So I google that and turns out, well, he composed several of the songs written in the notebook!  The next night I find myself listening to Grandpa Anderson play, on his violin, an accompaniment to “The Last Rose of Summer” that really blew me my mind.  So I woke up and put it into Sibelius (music notation software) right away.  All of that time transcribing orchestra music paid off – I found I could write down what I heard in my dreams, as time progressed and I became more practiced at it – what I heard in my head.

Then I had a strange experience – I still don’t have a good explanation what this one is about.  But I found myself standing in the dining room back at The Aunt Farm.  And I knew I was dreaming because The Aunt Farm is long gone.  Grandpa Anderson walks in to the room.

“You know,” he says, “this whole thing would be easier if we used those wax cylinders.”

“Wait a minute!  Hold on – are you telling me you recorded yourself on wax cylinders?”  My mind is going a mile a minute – I’m remembering seeing these things at antique auctions – old machines that recorded music on cylinders that look like empty black toilet paper tubes covered in wax.  I didn’t know when they were invented but I knew they were around when he was pretty young – 1890’s at least.

“Yeah,” he said.

“And you know where they are?”
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“Sure!” he said, and turned around.

“Wait!  Remember I’m not dead and I can’t walk through walls and stuff like that.  So don’t get too far ahead of me. OK?”

I followed him into the sun porch, which used to be his hangout back when he was alive.  He hauled open a drawer, looked confused, and pushed it shut.  Then he hauled open another drawer.  Same thing.  “Maybe they’re upstairs,’ he said.

So I follow him up to the master bedroom.  He pulls open another drawer, and another … it’s all The Aunts’ stuff!  I begin to realize: the image of the house came from my head.  I was never there when he was alive.  So the drawers are all full of The Aunt’s stuff instead of his.

“I don’t think you realize how long you’ve been gone,” I said.  “I’m talking like, forty years.  Everything in this house – it’s gone now.  This dresser is actually in my house in Pittsburgh.  There’s really nothing here anymore.”  I looked down and saw a CD lying on top of a pile of junk in the drawer.  “Hey look!   Know what this is?  It’s a CD!  It’s like a record.  This is what we’re going to record your music on.”

But I guess between the appearance of the CD and my pointing out how long he’d been dead, I broke the spell somehow.  When I looked up he was gone.
I did try to find these things, but the house was cleaned out long ago and none of my cousins remember seeing anything like that.  So I think it is a safe bet that they are gone but I will keep my eye open at the auction.  You just never know!