I’m not going to say I’m old, but I am in my eighties and have a lot of memories that occasionally drift by, helped by certain days like Veteran’s Day. One of my close veteran friends from the past was A. J. Murphy. A. J. passed away in 2003,
and the heart and soul of a young organization,
“Friends of The Blues, Montgomery County.”
In May of that year, the Friends celebrated
at the Texas Arts Venue in downtown Conroe, Texas.
Click here for an article that appeared in the Houston Chronicle.
— kenne
Such a sad time that was. First Kinny Abair then A.J. We always remember that rainy night when Ashton Savoy, Moe’s Hansum band, Collin Brooks, A.J. and many others were in the big circle in our living room playing. One big jam session. I’m sure there’s a jam in the heavenly band as several of those have left us. Mary and Kenneth
The music and memories will go on forever.
I think of the lines I wrote about a radio host: “Though we all love the music/the music cares not for us./It’ll dally with other lovers/as we dissolve from dawn to dust.” Among the duties of old age is standing by as friends die and preparing for our memories of them to die with us. That this repeats, often without attribution, through the generations is a kind of impersonal immortality.
Impersonal immortality is an interesting concept to ponder. There is something inside of us that lives on forever. That is what we refer to as the soul. At death, who we are as a person (personal) dies, and that that is immortal (the soul) lives on. Thanks for your thought-provoking comment, Frank.