THE BLUE JAY STORY

In 1999, my Grandmother, Sylvia “Sidney” Thomasson passed away suddenly. She was, besides my Mother, the best woman I ever knew and I know I speak for my entire family when I say she was our foundation, our rock and the reason we are who we are individually and as a family unit.

She was a beautiful woman, far ahead of her time. She was kind, well-spoken, progressive and one of my greatest inspirations. She stood tall, smiled big, cried whenever we left her, all while simultaneously being the lioness… the huntress… the protector. Her family was her life and if you messed with any of us, well, Lord help ya. She was my heart.

We held her funeral service on her front lawn in Leesburg, FL overlooking the most beautiful lake, her casket laid under the most beautiful oak tree on the most beautiful day.

One of the speakers, my Grandma’s Sunday School teacher Sherra, was standing on the podium giving the sweetest speech when all of a sudden, a blue jay flew out of the oak tree above where my Grandma laid, did loopy-loops around the crowd and then flew back up into the tree. Of course, we all noticed but didn’t think much of it at first. Sherra shook it off and continued speaking until moments later, the same blue jay flew out of the tree again and danced around all of us as if it was trying to make sure it had our attention. And boy, did it ever.

Sherra just smiled, laughed and said, “Okay Sylvia, we know you’re here.”

Ever since that day, my Grandma has been a Blue Jay. I could not have imagined a better name for this sacred space than the Blue Jay Listening Room. Named after the woman who always had a song in her heart and who has forever placed a song in mine.

I’m so grateful for you being here.

I hope you leave with a song in your heart, too.

For the love of music,

Cara