I was heading into the woods when I saw him at the other end of the road. I heard his voice, but I couldn’t make out the words he was singing. As I approached, I noticed his long white hair, his full beard, his frail body tilted towards his trekking poles. He was old, he was beautiful. Then I recognized the words he was reciting …
” There’s a blaze of light in every word / it doesn’t matter which you heard / the holy, or the broken Hallelujah “
Hallelujah, by Leonard Cohen.
Our eyes met. He hasn’t stopped singing.
I continued my way to the shore, walking slowly to hear it as long as possible. Then I sat down to watch the ice rock. As if the river was breathing. As if he was still breathing, despite everything.
We had all just canceled our New Year’s Eve. The mines were low, the sky was gray, and the St. Lawrence was cold.
Nothing to stop the man from singing.
I thought of this other elder that I had met, a few days earlier, in the middle of Montreal. He was singing Bohemian, him. Her dog, off leash, was running. The pedestrians panicked, fearing that the animal would be hit. Between two words, the man said: “It’s okay, everything is fine!” ”
We allow ourselves too little to sing at the top of our lungs in public.
A ship was crossing the horizon. I stared at it, thinking about what my sister had asked me over the phone the previous week …
She noticed that elderly relatives were ready to take risks during the holidays. These people, with fewer years ahead of them than others, tried to reunite their families at all costs. Were they right in wanting to disobey certain regulations? Were we wrong in trying so hard to protect them?
I told him that I had no idea, but that, one thing is certain, I was not ready to take the risk of precipitating the death of a loved one … That would be too much guilt to deal with! My sister agreed, obviously. She had also followed the rules to the letter, by the way. She added, however, that as a mother, she came to understand that parents can want to be near their children in times of crisis.
Did we really realize what our ancestors were experiencing, in the hollow of their hearts?
“If youth knew …” she concluded.
I have a friend who provides home care to elderly clients. She recently told me that her patients’ morale is low. Already that their relatives did not dare to visit them too much, for fear of contaminating them, the new measures officially restrict their network … They who had not yet recovered from the first confinement. For many, it was the ordeal of a lifetime.
What about wars? And the economic crises? What about other diseases?
“They weren’t living them alone,” she replied. It is the first time that they have faced a disaster of this magnitude while being perfectly isolated. And it is not necessarily easier for confined couples. My girlfriend sees real distress in family caregivers who have to deal with their partner’s state of health on their own and all the responsibilities it entails. Some have reached the end of their resources, their limits. They can’t take it anymore.
If we cannot see them, we must find a way to let our close elders know that they are being heard. That we are still with them.
These people my friend visits miss their world sorely. She gives me the example of this man who asked her to stay at his place this week. Just long enough for him to play an accordion tune. He used to give his family a little concert every Christmas. However, this year, he had only one for public …
As much my girlfriend was moved, as much she hoped that the show was not too long; she still had so many patients to see! With his colleagues falling ill one after the other, his schedule – filled with overtime – is busier than ever.
“It’s sad to say, but I was hoping it would be a well-paced little rigodon …”
The wind started to pierce my bones. I got up. All the way back I thought of the walker singing Hallelujah. A song often heard at funerals. A song that could embody death, but which, on the contrary, celebrates life.
In the test The Holy or the Broken, Alan Light takes an interest in the history of the anthem, drawing a parallel between its author, Leonard Cohen, and the young Jeff Buckley – who made it so popular. Two generations of men who have tamed it very differently.
It is because the text can take on so many different meanings! The journalist also highlights both mystical and sexual symbols which he abounds in …
Leonard Cohen said that with this song he wanted to remind us that Hallelujah can emerge from situations that have nothing to do with religion. Here, therefore, the term can be understood as a prayer, but also as a relief, a catharsis, a redemption or even the acceptance that things are as they are.
” There’s a blaze of light in every word / it doesn’t matter which you heard / the holy, or the broken Hallelujah Sang the man I had passed.
Of this verse, Alan Light writes that these are particularly important lines. There is a burst of light in every word. If I allow myself an in-house translation, it indicates that “Cohen tells us, without resorting to sentimentalism, not to succumb to despair or nihilism. Critics have lingered on the tragic nature of his words, but they offer us hope in the face of a cruel world. Whether holy or broken, he remains a Hallelujah ”.
I like to believe that it is this hope that the old man called out loud and clear.