20091208Posted by Jessica Sat, August 08, 2015 11:52:26
My brother Niklas was at the hospital when we spoke. He had not yet heard anything from anyone, they had rushed dad away to the emergency and Niklas was still waiting for news. He told me though that he did not believe there was much hope. He had found dad seemingly lifeless, and he told that he and his girlfriend at the time had performed CPR.
It sounded so surreal, that this could even happen at all. I'll write a cliché now, but it felt like this had to be a horrible nightmare that I should be able to wake up from at any time. But I didn't. Instead, a doctor entered the room Niklas and his girlfriend were in while we were still on the phone. He put the phone away without ending the call, so I heard parts of the conversation and it felt so much more surreal.
The doctor spoke of how they had gotten no response resuscitating Tyko, as was the name of my father, and how they had ended the attempts. He never said it straight out, and he spoke in very factual terms, and it was as if the doctor thought Niklas had already been informed. As if this doctor only entered the room to tell about the procedure and how it all went to hell. Though of course in factual terms and a calm manner. I did not hear all of what was being said, the reception wasn't the best. Still, I heard enough. The doctor never said it straight out. I still understood but I denied. What an unusual way of finding something like this out. The call was interrupted, I tried calling back but my brother didn't pick up until a while later. I needed it confirmed, black on white, these words that there were no turning back from, that meant no more denial.
So I spoke with Niklas again, and got it confirmed. Black on white but mainly just an incomprehensible dark. Our father was no more.
20091208Posted by Jessica Sun, August 02, 2015 14:19:26
One hour. That's how long I waited for new information.
My mind was fixated on the concert. Probably because it was easier that way. I pondered about how many songs I was playing along with the others in my rehearsal group, of course my father could not die just like that, I would be able to play this evening. Maybe only play though, my father would of course pull through, but I would be shook up and perhaps singing would not be a good option. So if we didn't include my song in the setlist, maybe the evening would be manageable after all, since my father was going to survive. He just had to. Simple as that.
In between I made phone calls, nothing new to be heard, still the uncertainty.
And in between the phone calls, there was the concert. It was all I could lean back on, all I could make my mind think of not to fall apart. I remember the feeling that I would let everyone in my group down if I wouldn't be able to play. Which didn't make much sense, it's of course highly understandable that people can't go out and about with their lives as if nothing happened if in fact something horrible happened. Still, that would of course not be the case. Because my father would live. He had to.
And still, there was that feeling that I did not dare finding words for. I guess that feeling made me focus so much on thoughts of the concert, since I would otherwise think of the feeling and what it meant.
And then, when one hour had passed, I got a hold of Niklas.
20091208Posted by Jessica Fri, July 31, 2015 16:39:52
I'll share a real bad experience in this blog since it might be therapeutic for me, and maybe helpful for someone in the same position. So, let's start somewhere.
In 2009 I attended a course called Creative Music. You learned some theory, to play different instruments (I took some drum classes that I highly enjoyed), and you rehearsed your own tracks with a group from the class. Ever since the start of the first semester I looked forward to December 8th, when a concert was to be given. As the date came closer our group rehearsed more and more intensely. Among my tracks I had picked Seasons of the Fall to perform, and on remaining tracks I played a bit of drums and a little keyboard.
So came the 8th of December. In the afternoon I sat behind the drums doing some rehearsing when my phone rang. It was my mother. She asked if I was sitting down. Well yes I was, behind those drums, in the area where we would later perform our tracks. In good sight of a lot of people who were around. Strangers. But yes, I was sitting down.
My mother started speaking of some relatives she was visiting and I did not understand why she had asked if I was sitting down. To begin with she made no sense to me. Then she started speaking of my father. Ice hitting my stomach. She told me about how she spoke with him before noon, how he felt nauseous and needed to lie down. How she an hour later couldn't reach him. How she then called my second oldest brother Niklas, who at the time lived with her and dad due to a job he'd gotten in the small town. How she told Niklas she couldn't get a hold of dad. How Niklas looked through the house, how she heard him drop the phone when he found our father on the bed in one of the rooms. How the ambulance came, how it was not sure whether or not dad was alive.
The darkness within. The silent chaos.
MiscPosted by Jessica Mon, July 27, 2015 09:38:36
So I have this blog that I rarely use and this morning I started thinking, why not make something slightly more creative out of it. So I will. Starting this week I will share a chapter of my life. For now, my life these past 20 months in a few pictures.
Cruella is a furry member of our family since February 2014.
When going to a pet shop to buy hay in June 2014 I ended up coming home with this little one instead. We named him Tyrion.
I married the most beautiful person on earth.
MusicPosted by Jessica Mon, November 11, 2013 12:24:28
My new album The Blue Box by Once There Was has been released. You can find it at a number of places, but why not visit oncetherewas.se
for a download or two. You can buy the album from the webshop
at that page.
The Blue Box is also available for listening at Spotify
I'm very pleased with the artwork for this release. The photo I've worked with was taken by my father a number of years ago. It saddens me that he's no longer around, and I 'm keeping his memory close in many ways. Writing music is one of these ways.
MusicPosted by Jessica Fri, September 13, 2013 18:49:13
Some news about my position in Beto Vazquez Infinity:
From now on, due to limited time on my behalf, I'll continue working with the band as a guest singer instead of working with the band as one of their lead vocalists.
This means I'll participate on a much lesser number of tracks on future releases. It also means that despite the lack of time I'm these days constantly experiencing, I will still have the privilege to keep collaborating with this wonderful band, just at a little slower pace.
MiscPosted by Jessica Mon, July 15, 2013 18:11:13
Summer so far has been very Swedish with lots of rain mixed with a few sunny days. Rain doesn't bother me much apart from when taking the bike to and from work, which I do rather often.
I work a LOT this summer. At a care centre for elderly and also I have a writing job that I can't tell much about just yet. Finding time for vocal recordings on top of this seems a bit tricky at the moment, but let's hope I'll manage to do something within that field soon since there are people waiting for me to get things done.
I long for September. I'll definitely need a month off by then. :) But these jobs are both lovely in different ways, and I feel fortunate to be able to work within these different fields.
Also, the view when going home from the work at the care centre is quite lovely. At least when it's not raining. ;)