The Healing Element of Pan Pipes

I don't remember much after Mom died. Probably two years blurred by and somehow I continued to homeschool my three children. It was a blessing that they used Paces, or work books, to move from one semester to the next.

I attribute music to maintaining some level of sanity to my fractured psyche. The loss of a parent is never easy. The loss which comes of suicide even more difficult.

Somewhere in that blur I found the music of the pan pipes and spent endless hours after lessons listening to the haunting melody of this bamboo instrument.

I spent an equal amount of time writing out my thoughts and working through the incongruity of Mom's life interrupted.
I was 38, my children all three under the age of 18.

Time stood still for me, but life moved relentlessly forward. I also fell upon piano solos and devoured peaceful mindscapes created by Windham Hill artist George Winston.

Music is an incredible balm to a wounded spirit and often gentles us through and out of a grieving night.

This is one of the pan pipe melodies I played repeatedly during that time. I know my children all remember it well. I am so indebted to the composers who assuaged my healing spirit.

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