The final chapter of my first book is a tribute to the healing power of music. In it, I describe my ongoing musical activity of singing in the Oratorio Society of Minnesota for almost 25 years. I have found that engaging in choral music has the effect of “recharging my batteries” even during the busy years of medical school and residency training. And when I had the chance to return to choral music after breast cancer in 2016, it held even more meaning; it felt like I was truly getting my life back. The first concert after treatment at Ted Mann Hall, a performance of Mendellson’s Elijah, was highly emotional and inspirational for me.
In April of 2023, the Oratorio Society of Minnesota performed for the first time since November 2019, before the pandemic struck. Covid and singing had particularly negative associations early on, when a rehearsal at a community choir near Seattle actually served as a superspreader event, with three deaths as a result. Later, however, with the advent of effective treatments, the rollout of vaccines, and the milder illness produced by emerging variants, we began to meet again in fall of 2021 to rehearse and perform choral music. It was interesting to contemplate projecting your voice and tuning with your fellow singers while wearing a mask and standing 6 feet apart, but as I quoted to my children early and often during pandemic times: “you do what you gotta do.” Finding space to rehearse and even a venue willing to host the concert proved challenging, but with persistence and flexibility on our part we were able to pull it off.
This concert, Howard Goodall’s Eternal Light: A Requiem, felt very similar emotionally to performing after recovering from breast cancer, maybe even more so; it had been over two years since I’d been able to sing due to covid, and I only lost 6 months due to breast cancer treatment. But that same feeling filled my heart, mind and soul that afternoon, realizing how much I missed choral music and also how the experience of a live performance, both as audience member and chorus, is vastly different than listening to a recording. My entire extended family came to hear that concert, including my Mom; little did I know that would be the last concert she would experience before her sudden passing in August. After, she raved about the music, in particular, an ethereal movement with a baritone solo entitled, “Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep.” We chose this piece to be sung at her funeral for both the beauty of the music and the meaning behind the text.
Over a year later, I continue to perform with the Oratorio Society and our upcoming international tour takes us to Croatia this August. Again, I will be relying on the healing power of music; this trip will be bittersweet, because Mom had planned on coming with me. She joined the Oratorio Society for the tour of Northern Italy in summer of 2019 and immensely enjoyed performing Hadyn’s Missa in Tempore Belli in beautiful cathedrals. When she heard of the choir’s plans for Croatia, she wanted to be counted in; unfortunately God called her home before that trip would be realized. Even though she is in a far more spectacular place, I will very much miss her by my side as we tour ancient cities, vineyards, castles, and beaches; I’m sure I will be thinking of her constantly. I will be flying to Paris then Zagreb on August 11, the one year anniversary of her death.
At the same time, I expect this trip and the magnificent music we perform to be a process of healing. Traveling alone, even while in a group, I will have time and space to reflect, remember, and contemplate. And rehearsing and performing with the Oratorio Society will be a welcome distraction; getting lost in the music is one of the ways I feel transformed, transported out of the day to day grind and the challenges of life to a place where beautiful vocal harmonies and sublime orchestral accompaniment predominate. This, coupled with the amazing natural beauty of Croatia, I am sure will serve as a balm to my weary soul.
To quote Elton John: Music has healing power; it has the ability to take people out of themselves for a few hours. It is my sincere hope that music is something we can all engage in as a welcome respite from the difficulties we face, big or small.
Welcome to Doctor Heather 