In a matter of minutes, my eyes blurred. What was the trigger? Surely it couldn’t just be the opening strands of the Wilco song, Impossible Germany, right? I mean the song does have a lamentful tone but . . .
Enter the strange duality of emotions that represent what was and what is.
To recap day, I had just spent time hanging out with my boyfriend (yea- that's the guy appearing in my social media feed and wow that’s weird to say for the first time on a grief blog). Anyway, he had built a nice fire in the fireplace, we ate soup, and watched football - basic stuff on the first real cold fall evening.
In a span of 10 minutes, where I drove back to my home after hanging out, a Wilco song began to play in the car and I thought of Josh (my late husband - also weird to say). The tears rolled out as I recalled how he loved the band and the concert we went to in Dallas. I also thought about how excited he’d be to tease his friend whose team (the Dodgers) made it to the World Series THIS October - wow 2020!
As I navigate grief, I am continually surprised by how my feelings can change so suddenly - where I can go from feeling joyful after a pleasant evening of all things fall. . . to tears. Strands of sorrow so easily swing in with unwelcome vigor. My friend used these words as he encouraged me to embrace my feelings, "Its like every memory is a rock unturned" - this is so true. The memories of Josh and our life together continue to be part of my daily life - these can bring tears or laughter, and they are very much part of who I am today. I can't change this or forget it - nor do I want to.
Today, pieces of Josh - and the things he loved - like Wilco, seem to have a new meaning. Honestly, I never quite understood his fascination with the band and often found the guitar solos annoying and excessive (sorry guitarist friends!).
This now fills me with a desire to analyzing the lyrics and melodies with a fresh perspective. While I probably am personalizing it WAY too much (but that's what you do with music right?), the words of the recently heard song seem to weave perfectly into my grief story as they are beautiful and complex - much like trying to navigate life, gorgeous love and hope while wondering who is listening to my ongoing rambles about grief. Can you talk about it too much? I don't think so - but can a guitar solo be too long?
Alas, I leave the video below and the lyrics that intrigue me most here as I ponder some more.
Thanks for listening.
“This is what love is for
To be out of place
Gorgeous and alone
Face to face
With no larger problems
That need to be erased
Nothing more important
Than to know someone's listening
Now, I know you'll be listening?"
Hi! It's Jenn Brown, writing my story that is now slightly different as we enter a season of new grief. On September 30, 2019, my dear husband Josh passed away after battling brain cancer.