In memory of Adam by Maria Kristina Klungnes Berg


Today I woke up, but I am not quite sure I did. I woke up and the first thing I read was that Adam passed away last night. It cannot be true, and therefore I must be asleep. I do not want to believe it, and I cannot fathom it. He was supposed to come back. He was getting better. As he was getting better, he was looking forward to come play for us. We missed him, he missed us. We were happy he was recovering. Recovering to live. Living to play.

Today I lived my life as if it was a normal day. It was not. His death is so unbelievable that I do not know how to accept it. I do not want to accept it. Because he was coming back. He would play for us. He would celebrate with us. He would drum. Drum. Drum. With his rhythm he would drive us, enable us to move faster and remind us to stretch further.

Adam gave magic. Magic when smiling, magic when trying to pronounce a new word he had learnt in a new language. I remember once he showed me his little book containing short greetings and phrases in foreign languages. Today language becomes empty. Adam never needed the words to create magic. All he really needed was himself and the rest of his instruments.

Today I lived life as if it was a normal day. It was not. In moments I was reminded that this morning I read something that cannot be true. I am not sure I actually woke up today. Moments when I hear a distant beat backing up the music that flows through the coffee shop. Moments when I realize that today, Adam did not wake up. Moments when I hope that in this dream he is still playing. He gave us music, and in every second of his playing he gave his all. He loved his job. He was inspiration and kindness, generosity and power. I wish he could be there with us. Playing. Once more. Please. Just once more.

Every beat is precious. Every heartbeat. Adam had the gift of multiplying them. For whatever amount of beats I have left, I will do whatever I can to remember what seizing the day truly means. Through Adam’s music and life he taught this by example. If I do actually wake up tomorrow, and even if this day was not a dream; I will do whatever I can to celebrate life like he demonstrated, and I will bring the beats with me.

Rest in Peace dear Adam.
My prayers goes out to all the people that was moved by your life.
Thank you.

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