The End of a Journey

He made us cry many times, didn’t he? But this time it is different. James Horner was absolutely special. He always was. Some liked him more than others; but, still, he remained absolutely special. His music, which should be engraved in capital letters, had and has to be heard in capital letters too. It was his music more than any other composer’s.  Personally, it was not only music (whatever that really is), it is something I have had it in my guts since I was eight. Since 1988, you know. Do you get the picture? Loads of clichés come to my mind, clichés that will not feel empty for some days, but some will do after a time. And that is not what I want. My guts want to share what Horner’s music means for me, as for many others: love, without being sentimental, though we may today. What remains is the joy of feeling his music together.

Being slightly sensitive you may get the idea. Just a couple of months ago I did enthusiastically write about Wolf Totem, because I welcomed each new work from Horner with the enthusiasm of a kid in Christmas, today and forever James. And that has come to an end. It is hard to accept, because everything looks different from this world, a world without James Horner. He is not here any longer. James Horner is not here any longer. Hard to believe. The world, without James, for me and for many others, is a different place; but not worse, quite the opposite. Weird? It is not.

The world is better now that James is gone. Just because it is a thousand times better than before he was born. He has made it better every day. He has been there and changed my life. And I know for sure that this applies to many others. I feel moved by things that otherwise I could not have felt. His music has awakened feelings that I did not know before. I am the way I am thanks to experiences that touched my heart. And the basis for them is James’ music; not only a firm basis but a cheerful and affectionate one. A cornerstone in my existence, frankly speaking. Even a refuge.  But everything comes to an end. That is life.

I write this and remember my friend Fernando Ayuso. The only person in the world to whom I looked into the eye the first time we met and I knew that he felt exactly the same I feel for James. Meeting Fernando was amazing. Many other friends come to my mind, friends with whom I have shared his music. Rubén, Edu, Mulas and Berto, who have been able to put up with my endless talks about Horner. Rodrigo and Vanesa, because for them he was a part of their lives. Óscar, who felt him in his heart. Jean Baptist and Etienne, who loved him like me. Many of them are suffering, but I want to tell them something, something I am convinced of: the one thing that defines an end is its uncertainty. They already know it. Even more wonderful, this uncertainty also means that one never knows where an end will take you.

James has reached the end of his journey, and we feel as he left us half way. But that cruelty, that feeling of not wanting just to “miss” him, is only cured by faith. No. It is only cured in the conviction that the end takes us to something better, which is unbeknown to us. We are no gods, we did not create ourselves and we do not end in ourselves. Call it religion, spirituality or whatever. I do not know if James Horner was religious or not. But I pray to God: please open Heaven’s Gate for him. Life is about love. And James Horner’s voice, his music, was love.

I remember now that scene, that cue, in The Perfect Storm: “There’s No Goodbye…Only Love”. Do you realize? See you, James.

Braulio, 6/23/2015

Special Thanks to Oscar Salazar for the Translation