The Composer, Claude Debussy, died in Paris on March 25, 1918. In 1903, he published a piece of music called, Suite Bergamasque, the fourth movement being its most famous, Clair De Lune. You know the music, they play it in movies all the time. At the end of “Oceans 11” and most recently in the movie “Twilight.” You would recognize it if you heard it. Its minor key is distinctive. And the rogue nature of its composer is summed up in his quote about his early life in the music conservatory He writes, “I am sure the Institut would not approve, for, naturally it regards the path which it ordains as the only right one. But there is no help for it! I am too enamored of my freedom, too fond of my own ideas.” And that freedom and those ideas led to a most beautiful piece of music
Clair de Lune takes its influence from a poem by the same name written by the French poet, Paul Verlaine. Who died in Paris on January, 1896. The Poem is a simple one:
Your soul is a chosen landscape
charmed by masquers and revellers
playing the lute and dancing and almost
sad beneath their fanciful disguises!
Even while singing, in a minor key,
of victorious love and fortunate living
they do not seem to believe in their happiness,
and their song mingles with the moonlight,
the calm moonlight, sad and beautiful,
which sets the birds in the trees dreaming,
and makes the fountains sob with ecstasy,
the tall slender fountains among the marble statues!
For me the poem and the music invoke themes of the duality of my life, the tension I feel between my living and my dying, tension masked as happiness on top of sadness amidst celebration. Minor keys among major ones. Like water fountains, sculpted artistic wonders that constantly cry tears. Human beings. We are chosen landscapes, purposefully made things, with the capacity to love and be loved, to laugh and celebrate, all the while the whisper of the gods echoes in our ears, you are mortal. And we are, and it is a part of the living. But as the poem Allison read says:
"Until then, I will live my life to its fullest and when I need you, I will whisper your name in my heart...and I will know that you will be there."
We live a life hopeful and anticipating laughter. But we also live a life aware, charmed by masquers and revelers playing the lute and dancing and almost sad beneath their fanciful disguises! And for me, I like the line, almost sad. I am almost sad, not quite, almost, under my mask as I revel in the moonlight, my soul a chosen landscape.
We are here today to celebrate the life of one, Helen Maxine Theresa Ruth Cardone Harrell. Yes I know, she was a small woman with an extremely long name. We could have put her full name in the obituary, but who likes a braggart. Certainly not Helen Maxine Theresa Ruth Cardone Harrell. From my experience, pretense was not her thing. Her long and distinguished name would mislead you. She was proud, but not haughty, and she would cut you if you got to haughty. And as Juliet says, “"What's in a name? That which we call a rose,
by any other name would smell as sweet." And that is true, call her Helen, call her Ruth, you pick, she would still be as sweet. And she was that too. Kind, loving, good. Helen Maxine Theresa Ruth Cardone Harrell.
But what is in her name. Helen, from the Greek Helene, meaning torch, or light. The daughter of Zeus and Leda and wife of Menelaus, considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Whose abduction by Paris caused the Trojan war. And
Maxine, which is the 20th century derivative of a Roman family name Maximus which in Latin means "greatest". And Theresa, from the Spainish Teresa, itself from the Greek, Theros, or Therizo, meaning Summer, or Harvest. And Ruth, a Hebrew name which was meaning "friend", listed in the genealogy of King David and Jesus. And Cardone, from Sicilian carduni meaning‘thistle’. And Finally, Harrell, from the Old English personal name Hereweald, which goes back to a Germanic personal name composed of the elements hari ‘army’ + wald ‘rule’. Army Rule.
Torch/Greatest/Summer/Friend/Thistle/Army Rule, pick one, and I think you will agree they all describe Helen. They each point to a moment her long and wonderful life, and they each act as a touchstone for all of us here, her family and her friends and her extended family and friends. We each encountered a light, a friend, a thistle, someone great and noble, someone with the air of summer, someone who could rule like an army, each of these is a truth about her. A truth she passed on, into three generations of people. From Jack and Melissa, to Allison, Russ, Christian and Matt, and then to Madison, Henry, Lili and Catherine. And the echoes of her influence goes beyond that. Her wisdom reverberates into the lives of her patients, and then the nursing students, into the lives of her surrogate children, of which I am one, into the lives of those people we encounter. Part of us is her. And the each have a torch to shine, a great part of us to show, a piece of the season of summer to display, the ability to befriend and love, a thisle part and an army rule part. We each have a piece of Helen in us right now. And that makes us who we are. We can measure her 86 years by realizing her impact. Without her I would not have the delight to know and love Allison. Without her, I would not have known the delight and love of Henry and Catherine. For those three gifts are the most precious of things to me. And when I think of life without them, how much better the world is with them in it, I give thanks to God for Helen Maxine Theresa Ruth Cardone Harrell.
At round 5:10 last Saturday evening, I was on a walk with my two children. Allison had called and said she was going to see her grandmother on her way home. Earlier I had tried to connect a wireless remote to a set of speakers in our garage so I could listen to the music on my computer while I was working in the garage. I am not savvy, so the project was not working very well, with only intermittent success, the music came out of the speakers in fits and starts. While we were on our walk, Henry tried to scoot down a driveway, and was unaware of the car coming at him. Like al good and angry dads, I was both fearful and glad that he did not get hit by a car. As I was firmly reminding him to look both ways before scooting down driveways. My phone buzzed in my pocket. “She is gone” was all the text read. In a mad dash to do several things at one time, and in the frenzy to care for my wife and get to the place where she was, and in my rush to gather up these children and get them home and squared away, and in that harried and disjointed state you get into when you need to be somewhere and cannot quite get there as soon as you want to and you are putting strollers and scooters and diaper bags and barking order and all of that stuff where I was, suddenly, those speakers that did not work so well, suddenly and clearly they played Clair De Lune by Claude DeBussy a piece of music based on the poetry of Paul Verlaine. And I stopped, and I listened. And I thought to myself, here came Helen, on her way to wherever she was going, to check on her great grand kids and calm her grandson in law down. It was going to be alright.
And it is. I do not know if Helen ever knew of Claude DeBussy, or Paul Verlaine. But both men died in Paris, a city named for a man who was so in love with a woman named Helen that he was willing to cause a war for her affection. Helen, a torch, a light. Helen, who was a wife, a mother, a grandmother a great grand mother, who loved her family. Helen. A soul a chosen. A soul charmed by masquers and revelers. A soul calm in the moonlight, sad and beautiful. Helen, a life which sets the birds in the trees dreaming, and a death that makes the fountains sob with ecstasy, the tall slender fountains among the marble statues! Helen came, and gave each of us a life. Now it is our turn to live the life that Helen gave, even while singing, in a minor key, of victorious love and fortunate living We must believe in our happiness, as our song mingles with the moonlight. Helen gave us life, so let’s lead it as she would have, in all that her name implied. Torch/Greatest/Summer/Friend/Thistle/Army Rule
Helen Maxine Theresa Ruth Cardone Harrell. Amen.
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