Silent Surrender

by Shelly Guidotti

 

As a songwriter, I've received many requests to write for many situations.

The requests are sometimes silly, sometimes very corporate and sometimes about life's realities. This particular request for an original song was by far the hardest order I've ever had to fulfill.

Now I don't mean difficult in the creative sense -- the words and music flowed as quickly as I could write them -- but so did the tears.

You see, I was asked to write about losing a pet. Instantly, I was catapulted back to my very own losses.

Freda, a beautiful German Shepherd and childhood companion, then Sam, who looked just like Benji and with whom I'd spent months nursing back to health after a stroke, only to lose him to a rattlesnake. Finally, there was my precious Golden Retriever puppy, Norton, who at 6 months died of a rare neurological illness. I also thought about my two wonderful dogs I have now and how they are reaching their elder years.

I wanted to write something that would both honor the memory of a precious pet and yet help the pet owner to heal. I wanted to write something that a friend or relative could give as a gesture of kindness.

With the lyrics and my version of the music completed, I handed the song over to my husband Edo, who I knew would create his magical soundtrack for me to sing to. I could hear from his studio just how beautiful the music was becoming, and I was getting increasingly worried about how I was ever going to get through the vocal part of the recording session. It was my turn now -- the "record" button was pressed.

I took a deep breath and sang the first line. "I had to say goodbye today, to the dearest friend I've known". "Stop tape!" Tears had already begun to flow and my voice was all choked up.

Trying to lighten my emotions, I said to Edo, "Did you have to embellish the music so well?" So, he tried turning off some of the violin tracks to hopefully take some of the emotional sting out, but it didn't seem to help much. After multiple takes of mostly blubbering, I told him I needed a break. So I sat down, closed my eyes, and just became completely quiet inside.

I didn't have the strength to do this on my own, I thought to myself. Then, I silently surrendered this whole situation over to a power greater than mine. After a few minutes, I opened my eyes and with a newfound focus gave this vocal all I had.

I did it! I made it through!

Oh, there were a few leftover emotional rough spots but they could be fixed after the fact if need be. I breathed a sigh of relief that my part on "So Hard To Say Goodbye" was complete. Edo then came through the door from the studio, and I saw the tears streaming down his cheeks. The song had really gotten to him too, but fortunately I couldn't see his face while I was recording.

Drained but relieved, I opened the door to leave the vocal booth and there with her nose pushed up against the door was my yellow lab, Amy. She had probably been there the whole time listening, as she frequently does when I sing. Looking up at me with those kind eyes and wagging every part of her body that would wag, I sat down on the floor next to her, and wrapped my arms around her big neck.

Closing my eyes again, I realized I'd been given a gift greater than just "making it through" this session and that was finding the power in stillness and the power of surrender -- each incredibly strong and always there if we'll pause and just "look".

For that I gave a deep heartfelt "thanks".


Shelly is an award winning songwriter/singer who wrote and performed the opening song on the "Pet Tales" CD. She has also had a story featured on "Miracle Pets".

You may purchase her songs at http://www.songimages.com.

 

 


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