Day 88: One of the wonderful things about music is that there is perhaps a song for every emotion. There is a song to Fire you Up when you are feeling sluggish. There are songs about Love when you in love, and even when the night time seems to be at its darkest, there is usually a song for that too. As I alluded to yesterday, in this short chapter of my musical journal I would to highlight a few songs that deal with a difficult topic: the death of a loved one. I feel that I have been fairly lucky in my life not to have experienced any great tragedy, but at the same time, I have lost all of my grandparents, an aunt, and at least one high school friend. All of these experiences were quite different, and none of them were easy, but through each experience, I have found solace in music. But, the great human tragedy does not often begin when a heart stops beating; it begins before that, many times in the halls of a hospital. I would like to open this chapter with a beautiful, sad, powerful, and cathartic song from Death Cab For Cutie, entitled "What Sarah Said" that deals exactly with this topic using the vivid lyrical imagery that has always impressed me about this band. The very first line says more than most entire albums, "And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time." That is a harsh truth if I ever heard one. We all makes plans every day, every week, every month, but all of those things can be taken away in an instant. The middle of the song paints a vivid image of a group of people waiting in the ICU of a hospital: "I looked around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself... Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news." The picture in my head when I hear this song is intense and very real. But the hook at the end of the song is what really gets you, because 'What Sara Said' is, "Love is watching someone die." Then, the song ends with the question, "Who's going to watch you die?" There are many ways that we show love for each other throughout life, and I think it is important to remember that being with someone in their darkest hour is the purest form of love. We can't forget that, for the love we share is ultimately what remains once the pain of loss finally subsides. It certainly does not make it all better, for me this idea has always made the pain a little easier to bear.
12/28/2014
Day 89: This one is going to be tough. There is just no way around it. Twenty years ago today, my grandfather Stanley Marshall passed away, and it was the first time that I had lost a close member of the family. I was just 19 and a college freshman, and I thought I knew just about everything. Grandpa had long suffered from heart issues, and had survived bypass and valve replacement surgery, but in December of 1994 just after his 80th birthday, it appeared that his heart was giving out. We had flown to Florida that year, where we had planned to spend Christmas with my grandparents and Jenni before heading to LA to visit Dawn and Jack (and attend the Rose Parade), but we wound up spending most of the time in Florida in the hospital. Just after Christmas, it was decided that they needed to fly Grandpa back to Michigan to be in the hospital closer to home. I remember standing beside his hospital bed just before his medical flight and I said, "I will see you back in Michigan, Grandpa." I knew that he was not doing well, but at the time, I believed that if I just tried to get him to think positively, it would somehow get him through. I made this statement with confidence and then kind of turned around and walked away. Grandpa tried to say something to me along the lines of, "I just don't know, Paul..." But I don't think he really had a chance to finish his statement. I never saw him alive again after that moment. We took our scheduled flight home to California, but a few days later, Grandpa passed away back in Michigan and we took an early flight home for the funeral. As I think back to that final moment in the hospital with Grandpa, I realize that he knew what was happening. He knew the clock was running down, and I think he was trying to say goodbye to his grandson. But, I screwed it up, because I was young and selfish and I thought that I could fix it my way. I was wrong that day. But, I learned something as well. I learned that people get old; people die; and if you can make it to 80 and get to see your grandkids get married or graduate, well, that was a pretty good run. If any of us are lucky enough to make it that far, when your body starts to give out, maybe it is OK to say goodbye. I regret very few things in life, but I wish that instead of saying what I did, I would have just said, "I love you grandpa," and held his hand for a few more seconds. I think that it what he would have wanted, and I think I owed him that. So today's song is for my grandpa. "Feed The Tree" from the band Belly may seem like an odd choice. It is an awesome song off the 1993 album "Star", which was a side project of Tanya Donnelly of the Throwing Muses. It is not a song that he probably every heard or would even have liked, but it is a song that always reminded me of my Grandpa Marshall. I once heard an interview with Tanya Donnelly where she explained that the title of the song referred to an old phrase that she heard from an old farmer that referred to "feeding the tree" as being dead. It is totally the type of saying that grandpa would have liked as an old farmer himself. The song talks about an old man in the first line and the lyrics reminds me of the importance and value in listening to and respecting our elders. The chorus goes: "I know all this and more. So take your hat off, boy, when you're talking to me. And be there when I feed the tree." Grandpa never liked it when I wore hats either (especially indoors), so I think it is a message that he would have been able to get behind. Rest in peace grandpa, and thanks for everything you taught me.
12/29/2014
Day 90: Losing a loved one is hard, and it takes a while for grief to run it's course. But one day, you wake up, and the pain is not quite so bad. Today's song, The The's "Love is Stronger Than Death" is an example of a song that deals that moment when things start to get just a little bit brighter, when you start to make out that light at the end of the tunnel. The band itself is not that notable. I actually only own one of their album, 1993's "Dusk." The album is just OK, but it does benefit from the presence of former Smiths guitar icon Johnny Marr and the first three singles on the album, this one included, are all very solid. The lyrics of this beautiful acoustic song speak of recovery, "Here come the blue skies. Here comes springtime. When the rivers run high and the tears run dry." The song does not deny the pain that grief brings: "In our lives we hunger for those we cannot touch. All the thoughts unuttered & all the feelings unexpressed, play upon our hearts like the mist upon our breath. But, awoken by grief, our spirits speak." However, the chorus of the song is the simple message of the title: Love is stronger than death. I believe this to be true. Losing someone is hard, and at time it can be devastating, but at the end of the day, it the love that we share that matters in the long run. We are all mortal, but we keep with us those wonderful memories of those that have passed on before us. Death is just the final milestone of the journey of life, but love is eternal.
12/30/2014
Day 91: The topic of this chapter can be tough, so today I would like to wrap it up with one final song from Peter Gabriel. The song is "I Grieve" from the 2002 album Up. It is an amazing 7-minute expansive epic that seem to run the full emotion gambit of the grieving process. The song seems to start right at the tragic moment, "It was only one hour ago, it was all so different then, there's nothing yet has really sunk in." The song continues its motion that seems to mirror the act of grieving itself: "so hard to move on, still loving what's gone," and the tone is somber and reflective. But, at about the 5-minute mark, the song turns. The tempo increases, and it as if the sun comes up again, and the pain is a little better, because, "life carries on and on and on and on." At the end, Peter sings, "now I can find relief. I grieve." The whole song is an act of catharsis. In the end it is not the sadness that remains, but it is the celebration of the life: the joys, the smiles, the laughter, and the love that you remember. Two days ago, I spoke about the lesson that I learned when my Grampa Marshall passed. I tried to apply that lesson later when I learned that Grandma Fanson was involved in a car accident, and when a few days later I had a try to avoid telling my Dad on the phone that she had passed while he was on a plane so that we could deliver the news in person after he finished driving home from Metro. I tried to apply that lesson a short time later when Grampa Fanson passed as well, and when I called home from Japan and Jen had to tell me that Aunt Louise had died suddenly and I was not going to be able to return for the funeral. But, it all came full circle when my Grandma Marshall died I was asked to do a reading at the funeral. I think that some people were impressed that I could get through it. But, the reason that I could it because of songs like this one. I loved my grandma, and I was sad she was gone. But, I realized that grandma led a long, happy life. She had a good run, but she was tired, and it was time to say goodbye. I was OK with it. I wanted to celebrate her life on that day, and that is what I did.
Tomorrow, I will open a new chapter. As I look at the calendar, there is only one day left in 2014. Soon, it will be 2015. I suppose I should say something about that...
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