Music For Healing [NPR.org]

Maybe I am healing, but lately, I find myself crying and or weeping profusely, at the sound of much music I thought I once held dear. Before I witnessed her handgun suicide, my mother had been a student at Eastman School of Music, played piano, trombone, and violin, sang in the church choir, played in the handbell choir, produced the church sesquicentennial pageant, etc. I played some instruments, too. 

I  managed to endure 28 years of vivid flashbacks of that [suicide] scene, and the emotional shutdowns, every year just before Mother's Day through the anniversary date of her suicide. After some EMDR, the flashbacks ended. ... Maybe I'm still dealing with grieving tasks, long left undone, or partly incomplete. Maybe my use of it then was a resilience-builder, or at least a [healthy] coping tool. Maybe it helped restore my own rhythms.

"The sounds of the earth go unheeded, and one man strikes the strings of a violin, and our souls rise-as if on wings" [from a Unitarian-Universalist calendar circa 1974] (author unknown).