Mozart. Bach. Beethoven. The first was a musical genius and child prodigy who died young, the second a faith-filled father of many, trying to make ends meet. The third? The third was a brilliant, hearing-impaired curmudgeon.

What did the three have in common? Music, naturally. But what else?

It turns out, that in addition to being some of the most brilliant composers the world has ever known, these three were also members of extended families in which they, or close loved ones, struggled with a serious illness. One wonders at the contrasts the three perceived between the sublime music they composed, and the frailty of their own health, or that of their loved ones.

In the universal language of music, the three communicated with unsurpassed clarity and exquisite beauty. Their work is timeless, their musical legacy unparalleled.

But what of the ordinary language of personal and family communication? Did the three excel there as well? Or did they slog through illness like the rest of us, struggling with essential communication, doing their best to craft a legacy of love?

We may never know.

But we do know that a symphony is not easily created. And that harmony does not occur simply as a result of many instruments playing simultaneously. If that were the case, there would be no need for musicians to practice rigorously - or even be on the same page, playing the same tune, at the same time.

Think of a child's early attempts at violin - the bow scraping across the strings, creating a sound that, for a parent listening daily, would make scratching on a blackboard seem like welcome relief. Or the toddler, clanging and banging on piano keys, playing impromptu accompaniment to the violinist sibling, both of them together joining to create a cacophony of sound that most certainly does not seem to be a symphony to the jangled nerves of a listening parent.

Similarly, it is sometimes easier for families to avoid essential conversations altogether, rather than to work hard at composing the necessary harmony for healing and for wellness. In some ways, each one of us is a musician, trying our best to play the keys of our lives in a way that is at once beautiful and symphonic - or at least in a way that is not too discordant.

Unfortunately, in family life, much of our music falls short of even basic harmony. And, as you may have discovered, a serious illness can only makes pre-existing problems worse. Or better, depending.

On choices. And grace.

One wonders:

Might I learn to create and compose a lasting legacy for those I love and those who love me? If so, how?

How might members of our family sit with one another and listen reflectively to each instrument playing solo? And how and when do we play our family's symphony together, trombones joining with cymbals, violins with harps, troubles with trebles? (Or rebels?)

How can we, with help from on high, "create a joyful noise unto the Lord"?

This "Essential Conversations" section endeavors to provide both the score and the necessary tuning for the creation of basic family harmony. In other words, we hope to provide a few helpful tools and ground rules for essential family conversations during time of serious illness.

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Next page: Chapter 5: Ground rules for helpful conversations