Sonata by Julie Lockhart
C-sharp (#): Compositions in a minor scale, such as Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata in C# Minor,” can evoke a misty evening of sad contemplation, moody ruminations, even grief. When Michael lived with me before we married, I set a Type-A goal to learn the sonata’s three movements in five weeks at which time my piano teacher held a recital. Michael said, “I don’t like the plink-plink-plink of the piano.” I did most of my practicing when he wasn’t around.
D#: Perhaps divorce is the second note of this scale. It drips with instability. No one would conclude a musical piece on the second note where disagreements over money, sex, and household chores clang through the crumbling bond. Resolution comes from moving up the scale. Michael and I got mired in the second note, struggling to let go of our discord for our five-year-old daughter.
E: The third note establishes the moody minor scale. It’s a half step up from D#. Were this a major scale, the happier note would be E#. The minor third feels dramatic, the splitting of assets and custody of our girl. We could almost skip the E in favor of E# as we found a sweet working relationship where our daughter was concerned. Five months after I left him, Michael said, “Have I thanked you yet?” His acknowledgement that we were in fact miserable as marrieds. Yet the scale continues.
F#: This plink of the fourth note introduces more instability. Michael’s unexpected death from heart failure a year after our divorce shattered my world. As a musician used to resolution, I dangled on the precarious trapeze of the F#. Let me say this: most people don’t understand grief. His friends, many of whom rejected me after I left him, didn’t understand that a divorced me could grieve for Michael. Most had not a clue how dissonant life would become with a bereaved child – that she reverted to toddler behaviors, that she couldn’t sleep by herself, that she’d play happily one moment, then drop into messy tantrums the next. I dragged myself through my full-time-plus management job, getting my daughter to school, arranging for a nanny to be an extra “parent” when I had late meetings, getting her to a counselor. I had yet to comprehend the constant, ever-changing cacophony of grief that had blared into our living space.
G#: The “Moonlight Sonata” melody begins on this note, the so-called dominant note of the scale, moving to C# and then E. Its tempo is adagio, very slow moving; its dynamics mostly pianissimo (pp) for very soft. Grief is adagio, and for my outward face, I tried to maintain pianissimo. But inside, my belly raged with the fast and agitated (Presto Agitado) speed of the sonata’s third movement. I just wanted to get over the grief. But there’s no getting over a death like this. Grief experts recommend getting used to a “new normal,” but such a phrase seemed cruel within the belly of bereavement. The scale must continue.
A: G# transitions to A, the 6th, as light returns in early spring. If combined with C# and E, I hear an A major chord instead of minor. Beethoven uses major chords to add complexity and interest. My heart found occasional joy as the trees sprouted verdant leaves between branches. I signed my daughter up for dance classes, something on my to-do list for 6 months. Only then did I understand how the shock of Michael’s death had affected me. Only then did I find moments where I could take a full breath and feel my own song again.
B or B#: The natural minor uses B as the 7th note, while the harmonic minor uses B#. A choice point. Natural feels safe; harmonic brings drama to the scale. After three years of solo parenting, I craved change. Choosing B meant staying put – the job, the house, the drudgery. B# was my opportunity to move, to seek a new tune in a new city.
C#: The scale returns to the tonic an octave higher, a note of resolution. Once we settled into our new community, I landed a job as executive director of a small nonprofit providing grief support to children, teens, and adults. This is where my education about grief really began. This is where I got my daughter into a kids’ grief support group. This is where I learned to play the music of healthy grieving and to sit with others sharing a compassion that only comes from having my own loss experience. I’m proud that my daughter is now a healthy young adult living a full life.
The Music of C# Minor: No musical score is just about the scale. Beethoven created something complex and beautiful – like love – through his use of space and chords that deviate from C# Minor. I sit down at my piano with that tattered old score and attempt to relearn the “Moonlight Sonata,” a retrospective of my life in this one composition. As I get deeper into the melodies, I see that the complexity of love and loss have made my life rich, like Beethoven’s masterpiece.
Julie Lockhart loves an adventure in wild places. Her essays have appeared in the journal of Wild Culture, bioStories, Feels Blind Literary, Women on Writing Essay Contests, and Witcraft, among others. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee. Julie lives in Port Townsend, WA. Find her at: julietales.com