Legal Commentary

Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.    

Twenty-four years ago this month my sister died of breast cancer, on Martha's Vineyard. Three months later, my wife and I returned to the Vineyard in the dead of a hard winter to check on my brother-in-law and their three young children. One night, a group of us - my wife, brother-in-law, and friends who had comforted and cared for the family through that sad time - plowed through the snow in my brother-in-law's Volkswagen van to the local American Legion post to listen to a band fronted by James Taylor's brother Livingston, the drummer for which was (as was his wife) a good friend of my sister's family. The band was mellow and tight, and the music was bittersweet. We all drank and laughed and healed together.

Livingston, James, and all the members of the Taylor family (including brothers Hugh and the late Alex) sounded strikingly similar, and I can never listen to James without whatever song he's singing (even accompanied by a video set in the desert) evoking strong memories of my sister, the Vineyard, dark nights, blue water, loss, grief and moving on.

Enough To Be On Your Way -- James Taylor