Where is it?

Cassandra feels as though she has been going through her collection of music for hours. In all honesty, she had been. It wasn't with the composer collection, it wasn't in an alphabetical spot in her copies shelf, and it wasn't in her binders of recent plays. She can't even remember the last time she saw the music, if she were to be honest with herself. It was frustrating, but this is what she wants. It is the perfect gift.

So, with that in mind, where the hell is it?

Boxes upon boxes, binder upon binder, her apartment looks like an organized mess. She's looked through everything. There isn't any place else she keeps sheet music. Nowhere except- Oh. But she didn't want to go in there. She kept that box in the back of the closet, packed up, collecting dust. But if she had to think about it, it is probably in there. No, she knows it is in there.

And then she has to wonder if she would be gifting bad luck. It wasn't like it had been the first time she'd played the piece, but it was one of the times when she dug at its essence. It was one of the times she played it with true feeling. Maybe she shouldn't.

No, that shouldn't ruin it as a piece. There is a reason it is so commonly used at weddings. It is perfect, written with literal, loving intent. And it is so Spring. And it is a vocal piece.

So... guess, I gotta go in there.

It takes her a long moment, standing in front of her closet door before she opens it and walks inside. It is a fairly large walk-in closet. It had to be, given the amount of dresses she owned. In the back of the closet, down on a low shelf, practically hidden behind a beaded white gown, is a medium size box. She sits on the carpet, pulling the box in front of her, trying to breathe.

Ground yourself first. You are here, in Sacramento, and things are absolutely wonderful. You are happy. You are walking on air. It's fine. She lets out a slow, calming breath, a small smile coming to her lips as he enters her mind. Yes, things are wonderful.

She picks up the top of the box, setting it to the side, and begins sorting through mementos - photos, little notes, small tokens of affection she couldn't find it in herself to discard. Just be quick. It's... where is it? Back of the album. Right. She doesn't go through the pictures, doesn't linger longer than she needs to. If it had been a few weeks earlier, she might not have had the strength to not linger. It takes a minute, but she finds what she is looking for and before her mind can decide to give into curiosity, she closes the box and tucks it back into its spot. Yes, this is what moving on looks like. Right?

The piece of music she has taken out is in a small folder, the pages in protectors. She walks out of the closet into her bedroom and sits on her bed as she looks over the music. Widmung. A beautiful composition by Robert Schumann, poem written by Friedrich Ruckert. Schumann composed the piece for his to-be wife, Clara. Widmung - Dedication.

Translated, the lyrics read:

You my soul, you my heart,
You my bliss, o you my pain,
You the world in which I live;
You my heaven, in which I float,
You my grave, into which
I eternally cast my grief.
You are rest, you are peace,
You are bestowed upon me from heaven.
That you love me makes me worthy of you;
Your gaze transfigures me;
You raise me lovingly above myself,
My good spirit, my better self!

She takes the sheets, putting them in new sheet protectors and a fresh music binder. It wasn't like a binder you'd put regular sheets of paper in, it was designed specifically for sheet music and holding the folder comfortably in the hand. Engraved in script lettering on the inside of the folder reads: A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song. ~Maya Angelou

Yes. It was perfect. She's just got to hope that gifting vocal sheet music won't make Sera uncomfortable. She wraps it carefully with tissue paper before setting it in a small box, exactly the perfect size for the folder, and then writes a note to put inside.
Seraphina,

I don't normally gift music, mainly because no one tends to want anything from my stash, but when I consider you, your connection to Spring, and the beautiful love you share with your partner, there is nothing I can think of that is more fitting. Music speaks our emotions far better than words ever could, but this quote I heard the other day gave me pause and I thought of you. "Some days there won't be a song in your heart. Sing anyway."

Now, Winter cannot last forever, so it is time for the flowers to blossom and usher in a new season of renewed hope and continued balance. I'm looking forward to seeing Sacramento bloom under your guidance.

~ Cassandra