Not right, nor orderly.

La Folia

On the Friday before Labor Day, 2009, I was on furlough, and Anne Mei had no school.  We were all waiting for the swelling from the stereotactic radiosurgery (SRS) to go down enough for Laura to have an MRI the following week.  The MRI would tell us if all the tribulations of this terrible summer had done anything to stop the tumor: the debulking surgery in early July with its Trifecta of insults to Laura's body and soul, the unnecessary angst of waiting for two extra weeks for the surgeon to mark out the spots for the SRS, the extremely painful needle stick before the SRS that left bruises Laura carried on her arm until she died, and the ten days of running to Philadelphia for SRS sessions.  We all could see how fragile Laura had become.  Was her condition the temporary impact of treatment that was stopping the tumor?  Or were the treatment and the tumor combining to weaken Laura?  We needed that MRI to know the answers to these questions.

Nevertheless, this day was a quiet family day of housework, yard work, and school shopping. When we came home from shopping with Suzuki Book VI, Anne Mei (on her own initiative) spent the next 2-3 hours working on learning Corelli's “La Folia.” Although she was just starting the process of learning the piece, already she was bringing out the emotions of the theme, which so expressed our own feelings at the time.

This is the piece that Anne Mei’s teacher, Louise McClure, played at Laura’s funeral.  Afterwards, Louise said that while practicing for the service, she realized that “La Folia” was Laura.  Louise wasn’t referring to the literal meaning of “La Folia” (the mad woman) or to its putative origins in mad dances.  She was talking about the mix of moods and manners, variations on a theme that was Laura.