Music Therapy

1 || Chapter Six

Beautiful by Dan Bremnes

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Two of the true defining factors of a United Methodist Church — in my humble opinion — were the excessive hugging and the potlucks. One of which I was currently experiencing. And sadly, it wasn't a potluck.

"Caitlyn! I'm so glad that you're back! We've missed you!" yet another old lady that I couldn't quite remember the name of exclaimed as she wrapped me in a tight hug and subjected me to suffocation in her lavender perfume.

"Yeah." I managed to say, half-heartedly.

"So you're doing better than? All over Bryce's death? Such a pity that was." she mused.

This lady had obviously never lost anyone that she loved and was close to. Just the way she spoke came off as insensitive, though I knew it wasn't meant to be. And honestly, I didn't believe that it was possible for me to ever be over Bryce's death. But if it was, I had a long way to go yet.

I nodded vaguely in agreement to her statement before sneaking away towards my parents, who were entering the worship center.

"I told you." Mom murmured to me.

"I know." I said, with a sigh.

"You're okay though, right? We could go home if you want to." Dad offered, sounding concerned.

I smiled up at him, "I'm fine, but thanks."

My parents went past Pastor Sidney — who was standing just inside the worship center, greeting people as they entered — ahead of me and I resisted the temptation to tense up as I stopped in front of her.

"Caitlyn, we're glad to have you back." she said, her green eyes sparkling as she smiled genuinely at me.

"I'm glad to be back." I said, quietly.

Pastor Sidney tucked a strand of her short, deep red hair behind her ear before responding, "I recognize that this must be hard for you, coming back after all of these months. I know as well as anyone that these old ladies here can be a little overwhelming. But just stay strong, okay? God is with you, always."

"Thanks." I replied, returning her smile as I walked into the worship center and took a seat by Dad.

As I sat there, waiting for the service to begin, my thoughts drifted to what Pastor Sidney had said.

Her words, more than any of the others I had heard from other members of the church this morning, were truly genuine and understanding. I knew this because she could relate to what I had gone through, what our whole family had gone through. It had been 7 years ago, if I remembered correctly, that her daughter, Celeste, had passed away from a disease she had contracted on a mission trip to Africa. I couldn't imagine losing a family member through an act of God and then continuing to serve as a pastor and serve God so faithfully. But Pastor Sidney had, and she was a strong reminder of faith. Which unfortunately was something that I probably should have realized much, much earlier..

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The service seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was stepping up before Pastor Sidney again to take bread and grape juice for communion as she whispered to me that this is the blood and the body given for you because He loves you. Bread in hand, I walked back to my seat, eating my bread slowly — attempting to savor it — though I didn't quite understand what I was savoring.

One of the more devoted members of the church was playing the organ as the congregation took communion. I listened closely to it, waiting for that magical spark that ignited in me whenever I was captivated by music to ignite. But there was nothing. Organ music was alright, but it was too one-dimensional. Our church needed something more modern, more upbeat, with more depth to it. Something more like what my brother had always dreamed of.