A Token
Information:
- Source: Open Letters Notebook
- Key: Bb Major/G Minor
- Measures: 36
- Parts: Cello and Piano
- Duration: 3:02
- Pages: 4 Pages
THE CARTEL #
Family can be a blessing or a curse _ or a little bit of both. But in the end, I must admit that in this life, family is still the one thing a person can rely on when everything else shifts. I don’t say this lightly, because I know that not all families are the same. At the same time, without fear of sounding like I belong to the Corleones’ family. I still believe that family, for better or worse, is often the last refuge of loyalty and belonging.
I am fortunate to have four sisters and two brothers, for that reason, you can probably imagine the environment in which I grew up, where heaven was hell and hell was bliss. The memories are countless. Where should I begin? Perhaps in the port of Acapulco.
SURNAMES #
But Acapulco, the place where we spent so many summers, deserves its own story, and I will leave that for another occasion. Returning to the subject of family, the surnames Anaya and especially Martínez are difficult to trace because they are common surnames. Moreover, until recent years, at least in Mexico, it was not customary to keep written records of dates, facts, and events in great detail.
Because I do not know my ancestors’ family tree in depth, I can only speak with confidence about perhaps two or three generations back, and even then, only incompletely.
My paternal grandparents:
- José Anaya Morales
- Martha Rivera Núñez
My maternal grandparents:
- José Martínez Ochoa
- María de la Luz Ortiz Núñez
My parents:
- Emigdio Ramón Anaya Rivera
- Margarita Martínez Ortiz
My siblings:
- María Caridad
- José
- Eduardo
- Martha
- Ana Luisa
- Claudia
WHO IS WHO? #
But that is not the end of it. When it comes to taking inventory of the newer members of the family _ such as nieces, nephews, and my mother’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren _ I get lost. It becomes increasingly difficult to know who is whose child and what their names are.
The branches of the family tree continue to spread in every direction, and with each passing year I knoe there will be more birthds, and more faces to remember than I can possibly keep track of. Oh!, how quickly time moves and how effortlessly one generation gives way to the next.
Yet, despite how large my family has become, my thoughts always return to the people who formed the foundation of my life. They are the ones who shared my childhood, along with my joys and my disappointments. They are part of the ordinary moments that became the recollections I treasure most. They are the measure against which I mark the passing of time.
Through it all, my immediate family is, and always will be, what gives me a sense of continuity and support. They remind me where I came from and, in many ways, who I am. The present will become the past, and before I know it, all that remains will be the memories I carry and the family members who are still with me. It is those chapters of a lifetime that give my live meaning and help connect one generation to the next.
ODE OR ATTACK? #
Many could write an ode to family or launch an attack against it. In many cases, a little of both. The irony is that family is the only thing we have at the beginning, when we are born, and most of us at the end, when we die. Meanwhile, everything that happens throughout our lives is directly tied to our ancestors and our immediate family. There is no escape from it, even if we wanted to.
As a musician, I always pay attention to songs and how I can relate. Toward the end of 1994, a song by the Irish group The Cranberries began to be heard on the radio. It was titled “Ode to My Family.” It is a song with a sad melody that tears at my heart every time I hear it because it is also an ode to pain.
In the song, Dolores O'Riordan gives a brief account of her life _ a life she describes as simple in her hometown. Memories of her family and the pain she experienced, which only she truly understood, are expressed here through phrases of suffering, resignation, and melancholy.
The song’s success lies in the fact that all of us, in one way or another, suffer because of family or suffer alongside family. When we are children, we are vulnerable, and everything affects us and shapes and re-shapes who we become.
DON’T DIG TOO DEEP #
When entering the world, the first injustice is not being able to choose where you are born. The second is not being able to choose the family into which you are born. I was born into a family that was, more or less, in good condition _ a family that did not require many repairs in order to function well.
The few family embarrassments that existed could easily be covered up, or one could simply turn and look the other way. An old technique that is not unique to my family, but rather an inheritance of humanity itself, and one that will continue to be used until the end of times.
As far as I know, there is nothing about my ancestors that would scandalize me to the point of vehemently denying where I come from. And if there were such things, I would rather remain ignorant, because I know that if I start digging, there will be unpleasant surprises. After all, everyone has skeletons in their closet.
LIFETIME INTO SOUND #
I have written a piece of music for cello and piano, honoring the existence of my siblings of which I’m very fond of. In my last trip I made to go see them, I realized how fortunate I am to have them in my life. This composition is only a token of my fondness, a small attempt to preserve a lifetime of shared memories in sound.
To my siblings: the unwilling witnesses to every bad haircut, terrible decision, and overconfident opinion I’ve ever had. You have treated my embarrassments as a renewable resource and somehow made dysfunction feel like a team sport. I wouldn’t trust you with my secrets, my money, or directions to my house, but I can’t imagine having gone through any of this with anyone else. And for that… Thank you!.
Sheet Music Archive
Published Score.
The complete work is available for consultation and download.