"Hymne à l'Amour" Became my Hope and Salvation

You can listen to the article as a podcast at youtube, click here below:

The year began with various German schlager music. We listened to the mixed selection until the early morning hours, just as we had done in previous years. The music belonged to New Year’s Eve, and in the past, we had danced together to the old, familiar schlager tunes, the ones we knew by heart.

The past two years, however, had been different. My husband had suffered a stroke and was now paralyzed, confined to a wheelchair. It is hard to dance with a 300-kilogram electric wheelchair.

As the early spring months arrived, so did Carnival season – a time when we enjoyed the music of various popular bands at the Cologne Carnival. Yet, we both noticed that the enchanting hits didn’t quite capture us this year as they had before. Joy and celebration found it harder and harder to manifest, as my husband’s health continued to decline.

The major event of the year was again – as every four years – the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games. My husband no longer had the strength to sit upright and follow the entire ceremony, something that had previously been his greatest pleasure during the Olympics. Always the opening ceremony and the closing ceremony.

Still, we watched the opening together – and I had read beforehand that Céline Dion might perform, health permitting.

It drew parallels to my husband’s condition – fluctuating and uncertain, whether he could endure the hours-long broadcast, just as Céline’s health might or might not allow her to perform.

It was a unique and very different show the organizers had put together, and I must admit that several segments went right over my head. But finally, Céline appeared, standing atop the Eiffel Tower, singing with a beautiful, clear voice. By that point, my husband was asleep; his strength had run out.

Her breathtaking rendition of “Hymne à l’Amour” – an old Edith Piaf classic – resonated powerfully and profoundly. It echoed over Paris and through the television speakers straight into my heart. It was so beautiful, and at the same time, it gave me hope that a neurological disorder could, in time, be overcome. Thus, I hoped, could my husband’s paralysis. We still believed in recovery.

Céline’s song and her reinterpretation of Edith Piaf’s words became a mantra for me. Love as a unifying and sustaining force.

I had to hear it again. The next day, I began searching for it on YouTube. Surely, it had to be there. I found it and played it at full volume in the car on my way to work. Some of the French words and phrases I could belt out, others were a bit more challenging.

The next step was finding the lyrics to “Hymne à l’Amour,” reading them several times, and translating them to better understand the meaning.

I continued to listen to the song at least once a day, now with a deeper appreciation for the beautiful words. It is a powerful text about how love can make one set aside oneself to be with another.

Perhaps it was because the song gave me hope that my husband and I could still have a life together. Yet time increasingly revealed that this was not to be.

I kept listening to the song daily – while walking the dog, or driving to and from work – because it reminded me that I could remain connected to my husband through love, even if death would eventually separate us.

My husband passed away at the end of October. Suddenly, life was entirely different, and for a few days, I stopped listening to Céline Dion.

One day, shortly after the funeral, YouTube suggested I listen to “Céline Dion” again. I must admit, I didn’t sing along that first time. Instead, my focus shifted to the end of the song, where the lyrics go, “Dieu réunit ceux qui s’aiment” – “God reunites those who love one another.”

I suddenly understood the text in a completely new way. All the things she sings about sacrificing for her beloved – leaving her country, her friends, and not worrying about any troubles as long as he is with her – now resonated deeply. That she could spend eternity with her beloved, as long as God reunites those who love one another.

My beloved had left this life, and I was left behind with the understanding that eternity is the place where God will reunite us someday.

I found peace in hearing the song again. Céline has, in this way, helped me through difficult days, even though listening to it now often brings tears to my eyes. I have to pause all other activity until I hear her sing of the reunion with God.

I am a believer, and I believe in the soul’s immortality and life after death. I don’t believe in a hell, but in something beautiful and purely radiant, the day one steps into the light and reunites with one’s soul companions. I imagine that the souls of my parents, my husband, and all who came before don’t spend eternity waiting for me to join them. For the soul, it is but a moment’s wait in the grand eternity, even if I live for 30 more years. I have the experience yet to come; they will have it in just a moment.

“Nous aurons pour nous l’éternité

Dans le bleu de toute l’immensité

Dans le ciel, plus de problème

Mon amour, crois-tu qu’on s’aime?

Dieu réunit ceux qui s’aiment”

Telling me that it will come, suddenly, out of the blue, and last into eternity.

“Mon amour, crois-tu qu’on s’aime?” – If we believe that we love each other.

This song will certainly continue to play here in my home. I no longer listen to it daily, as it has fulfilled its purpose of supporting me through the last difficult months of my husband’s life and the beginning of a new one. A life where I must find ways to remember our love without letting it prevent me from moving forward and creating a new life – perhaps even with a new love. But a life where my love for my late husband is never forgotten, becoming a natural part of my future.