Donald and Cathy invited me along last night for a most enjoyable evening of Brazilian jazz. I’m a big fan of bossa nova and especially of the music of Antonio Carlos Jobim. The ensemble led by Grammy-winning pianist Bill Cunliffe delivered on our hopes with a handful of Jobim numbers, including an “out there” arrangement of one of my favorite songs, “Girl from Ipanema.” They enlisted a vocalist for their lovely rendition of Jobim’s “Dindi,” with lyrics by Ray Gilbert:
Sky, so vast is the sky, with far away clouds just wandering by
Where do they go, oh I don't know, don't know
Wind that speaks to the leaves telling stories that no one believes
Stories of love belong to you and to me
Oh Dindi, if I only have words I would say all the beautiful things that I see when you're with me, oh my Dindi
Oh Dindi, like the song of the wind in the trees, that's how my life is singing, Dindi
Happy Dindi, when you're with me
I love you more each day, yes I do, yes I do,
I'd let you go away if you take me with you
Don't you know Dindi, I'd be running, searching for you like a river that can't find sea?
That would be me without you, my Dindi, Dindi, Dindi.
Jazz on a weeknight after a full day of work – she must be feeling better, you’ll say. Yes, actually, this is the best I’ve felt, I’d say, in probably a year. Another patient on the WM talklist said the other day that his treatments so far have not reduced the lymphoma tumor bulk but have cleared out his bone marrow so that his platelet and other blood cell production could return to normal, and as a consequence, he felt better. That comment interested me because that seems to be my case, although the hope is that continuing the Rituxan in fact will reduce the lymphoma. I won’t know anything further until my next set of tests and treatment on May 31st.
Until then, I’m catching up with other friends and other parts of my life which have been left on hold or dealt short shrift these past nine months: choir, ward activities, the temple, the stake’s 75th anniversary plans. Akemi has an internship with the Museum of Science in Boston, so I remain an empty-nester through the summer; we both hope she’ll come home briefly over Labor Day weekend.
In the meantime, you might hear a samba or two from the piano, or catch me swaying like a certain girl in a certain song.
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