The Mohawk is a local music institution in Austin. It has a main stage outside with multiple levels of porches and areas to listen to the music. There are also some big old trees that hang over the benches, and the sound circles around everything.
Four years ago, Tim and I went to see Yann Tiersen play there with some friends. Yann is a French musician and composer. He did the soundtrack for Amélie, which was one of Tim’s favorite movies. Anyway, outside of soundtrack composing Yann Tiersen does instrumental/electronic stuff. Here’s a clip a video from the same show that we went to many years ago.
The music was lovely and the company was excellent, but neither of those things are what make this evening stand out in my mind. For a rare time in Austin, we had something like a real winter. Chilly nights in the 20’s in February and the night of the Yann Tiersen show at Mohawk… actual snow. So Tim and I were huddled together in thick coats on the upper balcony looking down at the performance. The lights of the stage glowed a warm orange and red while light, dry snow fell softly all around us. The band kept playing, and I just remember a lot of swirling colors and this building, beautiful melody that surrounded everything. We went to many shows at The Mohawk since that, but the snow show was always my favorite.
Over the weekend, I found myself at this venue again watching a friend’s band, Wildcat Apollo. I couldn’t stop thinking about the night in February in the snow.
In the bar while I was waiting for the band with my friends, they played a Yann Tiersen track from Amélie.
Was this one of those “oh he is with you!” signs that people search for? Was it just coincidence that this random classical track was on the bar’s loop of music? It ended up playing twice that night, so obviously the playlist wasn’t very long. I’m not saying I had a religious experience or felt my husband’s hand on my shoulder or anything, but half the time it feels like that and half the time it feels like the universe is playing mean tricks on a really sad widow. I spent some time wondering what this “sign” meant, some time listening to the music and some time trying not to cry.
People tell me I’m strong, and while I don’t necessarily disagree… I also don’t think I have a choice in this situation. I can’t hide from this loss. It is everywhere. I spent nine years with this man. I lived in three different states and traveled the world with him. I grew up with him. Everywhere I go, it’s something.