"swapping little pieces..."
"Jackie wants a black eye,
some proof that she's been hit
John wants the answers
but the questions just don't quit..."
Music may have saved my life, my marriage, my soul. Even in the darkest, bleakest hours of those first days with Silas suddenly gone, music pierced my impenetrable grief and keep something alive within. Beck's albums Sea Change and Mutations managed to capture my attention even when I could barely think.
"And we're sitting in the rain
and we're feeling like the weather.
You could say that we're alone
but we're lonely together..."
When the endless flow of tears finally drained me to dessication, music filled me up again, if only to help me cry some more. When I couldn't speak to anyone, couldn't listen to another word, couldn't feel anything but the black gaping chasm that used to be my heart, notes and chords and lyrics all-too-true wandered softly and impervious through that terrible void. Music was an inevitable truth, something completely outside of me that connected specifically to my pain. The music was a True Form that kept me tethered to reality.
"We're all in it together now
as we all fall apart
and we're swapping little pieces
Of our broken little hearts..."
Songs I had heard a million times suddenly became fraught with meanings I never suspected but were now powerfully, unbearably obvious. Give 3rd Planet by Modest Mouse a try and listen for the line "and baby come angels fly around you, reminding you we used to be three and not two..." and just try not to sob. Their other songs The View and One Chance are equally correct attempts to describe what we are all going through. I had no idea, not until Silas died. Then all of a sudden it was a like a code had been broken in my mind and all the secrets hidden in these songs were laid bare for me to soak up.
"Jackie's jumping in the quicksand
But it isn't what you think
she's safe cause she knows
the more fight the more you sink..."
It turns out that if anything has saved me from utter despair and pure insanity it has been music. Love & friends & food all play a big part in keeping me upright and pushing me forward, but music gets inside my soul in a way that is extremely personal and completely my own. I feel my brain speeding up as I speed down the highway with tunes blasting through the car. Music far too loud had their been a child with me, but just right for someone trying to learn how to be alive and broken all at the same time. Songs stitch me back together again. Songs take my holes and make me whole again.
"And we've been hurting so long
that our pleasure is our pain.
Are we madly in love?
Or madly insane?.."
Best of all are the live shows, though. Blasting music in the car or in the house is great, but nothing compares to a completely spectacular live performance. Lu and I found each other through music. Our first real kiss was at Madison Square Garden on New Years Eve during a Phish show in 2003. This year they played there again, and again we attended. The brutal and beautiful history we have shared between those two nights is hard to fathom, but it was perfectly clear to me that I am with the exactly right person. We had so much fun. How that's even possible when I think about how much pain we both still feel is a complexity of the human spirit that completely baffles me. But it is true. We had an incredible time. And they played just for us, as they always do. The song The Story of the Ghost is always about Silas. The first line: "I feel I've, never told you, the story of the ghost, that I once knew and spoke to, of whom I'd never boast, for this was my big secret..." And then the jam. The pure music portions of that song where there are no lyrics, just notes, it always takes me on a journey into the heart of my pain, and I always, always need it and love it and want it.
"Yesterday's love defines you
and today that love is gone.
Tomorrow keeps you guessing,
the roller coaster's rolling on..."
There must be multiple, endless Universes out there, each with a slightly different path, each with their own cosmic tune. The only way I stay sane is by entertaining the insane idea that there's another version of our family, one that is complete with a bright and beautiful little boy named Silas. Maybe a sister or brother on the way. Different numbers in our bank account. A home up the street or around the corner with a little more room, a little more light. And even crazier, since I know this to be true, is that the other version of me, he knows how close he came to all of this.
That helps me, somehow. It is as though I'm taking on all the pain and loss for all the other possibilities, sparing them this terrible ordeal. And those other possibilities, they are giving back to me a little bit of light and a little bit of hope that I have no reason to feel.
My reality cracked open the day Silas died and I have been diverging from my expected truths ever since. Music, though is a truth I can always hold on to. The notes and chords have become a scaffold I can hang my tattered soul on. Their rhythm replaces the beat of my heart when the pain is too great for it to pump another drop of blood. The lyrics tell me about my unbearable pain, but then trick me into moving, into action, into thoughts that maybe, just maybe I can bear his loss for one more day, if I just turn it up real fucking loud and belt out the words I don't yet quite believe.
"And we're all in this together now
as we all fall apart
and we're swapping little pieces
of our broken little hearts."
--Dr. Dog, Jackie Wants a Black Eye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What are you songs? How do they help you? What band or song or music has transformed for you since you lost your child?
27 Comments
Reader Comments (27)
"Caressing the marble and stone,
Love that is special form,
Wasting the feeling I feel,
How I wish you were here with me now."
These days I pretty much rely on music to feel tiny bursts of joy because I have been unable to get it really anywhere else. It's been awhile since I hit up a live show and I really really love them. Last year shortly after learning I was pregnant (again), I went to a show with the White Rabbits, the Raveonettes, Black Joe Lewis, and Flock of Seagulls. I got there early and was at the front of the stage. A couple started pushing me out of my spot and I flat out refused to budge. The girl wanted to fight me and all I kept thinking about was the baby and the insanity I would unleash if she touched me. Something broke in my head and I haven't been to many live shows since :(
Truly appreciate this post by the way! Music is one of those outlets we can use to extract emotion when the heart has gone cold.
One of the Modest Mouse songs you've mentioned Chris, The View, is one that means a lot to me too. It seems even more appropriate as the time passes 'As life gets longer, awful feels softer. . . .'
The song that reminds me most of my lost daughter is Nick Cave's 'Into My Arms' because, although it was a song I knew well before, its meaning became totally transformed in the aftermath of her death. It was the first piece of music I put on after we finally returned home from the hospital.
'I don't believe in an interventionist God
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him
Not to intervene when it came to you.'
Because I couldn't ask for her to be any different to how she was. Illness, prematurity and all. My perfect, tiny daughter.
Even if I believed that by asking I could change anything at all.
July flame, I am seeing fireworks;
they're so beautiful, so tell me why it hurts
Then, a refrain saying "can I call you mine?" that builds on itself.
This is because of the time between being told the first baby was dead and actually miscarrying. My brother was about to deploy so we had the fourth of July as usual, but every year now those fireworks remind me of that pain and uncertainty. It has eased with time, of course, but the what if feeling is still there.
"These words are my diaries shouted out loud."
Reminds me of a Doonesbury comic I read years ago..."could you turn your personal soundtrack down, please? It's disturbing others.". This post gets to me, because yeah, music lets you shout those feelings out without screaming and crying in public places, people just see you mouthing words on the treadmill or rocking out in the car and figure you love music.
I did however discover a new (to me) song recently. My friend sent me a link to this video after my son died: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjGYt_GO6c0
Stevie Nicks wrote the song for Joe Walsh from the Eagles who lost a young daughter- here's the story:
I guess I had been complaining about a lot of things going on on the road, and he decided to make me aware of how unimportant my problems were if they were compared to worse sorrows. So he told me that he had taken his little girl to this magic park whenever he could, and the only thing she EVER complained about was that she was too little to reach up to the drinking fountain. As we drove up to this beautiful park, (it was snowing a little bit), he came around to open my door and help me down, and when I looked up, I saw the park... his baby's park, and I burst into tears saying, 'You built a drinking fountain here for her, didn't you?' I was right, under a huge beautiful hanging tree, was a tiny silver drinking fountain. I left Joe to get to it, and on it, it said, dedicated to HER and all the others who were too small to get a drink.
So he wrote a song for her, and I wrote a song for him... 'This is your song, ' I said to the people, but it was Joe's song. Thank you, Joe, for the most committed song I ever wrote. But more than that, thank you for inspiring me in so may ways. Nothing in my life ever seems as dark anymore, since we took that drive.
Where it began, I can't begin to know when
But then I know it's growing strong
Oh, wasn't the spring,
And spring became the summer
Who'd believe you'd come along
Hands, touching hands, reaching out
Touching me, touching you
Oh, sweet Caroline
Good times never seem so good
I've been inclined to believe it never would"
It's my reminder that it gets better...
After George died listening to music was the best and most effective way for me to feel connected to him and to our experience as a whole. It was/is like praying but without any specific recipient in mind. I could/can sit for hours listening to certain songs/albums/artists on repeat. Most of the music I played (and still play when I want to feel closer to him) was all music I listened to before but the experience of his death changed the way I heard it all.
In the Aeroplane Over The Sea (Neutral Milk Hotel)
"What a beautiful face, I have found in this place, That is circling all around the sun, What a beautiful dream, That could flash on a screen, In a blink of an eye be gone from me, Soft and sweet, Let me hold it close and keep it here with me, And one day we will die, And our ashes will fly, From the aeroplane over the sea....Now how I remember you, How I would push my fingers through your mouth to make those muscles move, That made your voice so smooth and sweet, Now we keep where we don't know, Our secrets sleep in winter clothes, With one you loved so long ago, Now he don't even know his name."
" Lord make me a rainbow I'll shine down on my mother she'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors. Life isn't always what you think it ought to be. Not even grey but she buries her baby. The sharp knife of a short life. Well, I've had just enough time."
and Storm by Lifehouse " If I could just see you everything would be alright. If i'd see you the darkness would turn to light." Music helped and helps me so much. There is also a song by Chantal Kreviazuk called " Eve" I cry uncontrollably during that one. It is about a mother that lost her daughter. Ther are so many I can't even think of them all right now. Those are my favorites I think.
i loved this post, chris. unique and beautiful.
Another song that reminds me of Katie & the hoped-for brother(s)/sister(s) that never came to be is "Blessed" by Elton John. Just listen to the lyrics!
When I was pregnant, i used to imagine us singing Cat Stevens' "If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" to the baby:
If you want to sing out, sing out
And if you want to be free be free
There's a million ways to be
You know that there are.
I have basically banned it from the house for over two years, because it is way too painful- except for once when I specifically asked Alan and a friend who has been a total rock through all of this to play it as a duet on two guitars and I was able to remember the sweet with the bitter.
more bitter than sweet:
"God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys
If you should ever leave me
Life would still go on believe me
The world would show nothing to me
So what good would living do me?
God only knows what I'd be without you.
In the deepest, loneliest part of our grief, "Brick" by Ben Folds Five:
For a moment, we're alone-
She's alone
And I'm alone.
And, two losses and a crapload of failed fertility treatment later, just about anything by the Weepies. But especially "Old Coyote":
Ring around rosy game
Always ends the same way:
We all fall down.
Get up now, baby.
Get up now, baby.
It's your song-
It's your song playing.
That one makes me cry and feel hopeful all at once.
Thanks, Chris. As always
(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside
(I can’t wake up)
Wake me up inside
(Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark
(Wake me up)
bid my blood to run
(I can’t wake up)
before I come undone
(Save me)
save me from the nothing I’ve become
frozen inside without your touch without your love darling only you are the life among the dead
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbJQRXRk0l8
And i get what you mean about breaking some code in music. I hear lyrics differently now and apply them to our reality.
I have to admit I'm terrible with artist names, albums and lyrics, so I only know which song and how it effects me as it plays. But music has played a roll in my grief for sure.
http://www.myspace.com/florenceandthemachine
'The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart
And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,
So darkness I became'
and
'No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world'
A week or so after my loss, even 'you got the love' made me cry and cry.
Biffy Clyro also made me sob... their album Puzzle was written after the singer's mother died, and many of the songs are full of grief and anger.
Sometimes when I want to cry and can't for whatever reason, music will break down whatever barrier is in the way. It helps.
"...Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabies go on and on
They never die
That's how you and I will be."
In general, Mozart and Bach help the most...
This week he would have been five...Feels like a big milestone...
Thinking of you all with great warmth and affection. Thank God we have each other.
Kate Miller Heidke, "The Last Day On Earth"....
"Look down, the ground below is crumbling
Look up, the stars are all exploding
It's the last day on earth
In my dreams
It's the end of the world
And you've come back to me"
....and also,
Langhorne Slim "I Love You, But Goodbye"
"Why did you come?
You can't stay forever
How could you leave me all
alone on this Earth
Who was I before you?
I can't remember
Why couldn't I have been the one to
Leave here first?
I love you but goodbye
I love you but goodbye
No words of wisdom
Can make me feel better
I'm having hard days and I
Curse the night
Maybe I'll fly far away
Just to forget her
Perhaps I'll stay right where I am and
Get on with my life
She said I love you but goodbye
I love you but goodbye
A bird with clipped wings can still sing but can no longer fly
What am I here for?
Who makes the decision?
For every beginning
There must come an end
I want to thank you darling
For all that you've given
I want to thank you, thank you
For being my friend
She said I love you but goodbye
I love you but goodbye
And I love you but goodbye
A bird with clipped wings can still sing but can no longer fly"
I would wake up, thinking I was still pregnant, and then wonder if everything had been a terrible nightmare. And then the reality sets in.
"When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.... "
Am I one of the only ones who has been unable to listen to music with words...still? Music depresses me to no end -- either songs that speak to my grief and cause an overflow, or songs that remind me of my old life.
I will try music again soon I hope.
The song that means so much to me is by The Eels, "Little Bird"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oca-0wH9SyU
"Little bird, hopping along my porch
Know it sounds kinda sad, but what's it all for?
Right now, you're the only friend I have in the world
And I just can't take how very much, goddamn, I miss that girl.
Little Bird, you look alright
I'm sure it's not easy getting through your night
So tell me this can't be how it's gonna end
Tell me my heart, somehow, dear God, it's gonna mend
Little Bird, I guess you're right
I can't let it take me out without a fight
But right now I can't see making sense of this world
I just can't take how very much, Goddamn, I miss that girl."
I still love birds now. They remind me of of my girl.
(Lola, I couldn't listen to music, have the TV or radio on for a long time after I lost my girl. I couldn't stand the babble, the inane chatter and noise. I still don't like the TV or radio, but eventually I found my own way back to music. I hope you will find yours with time.)
I'm here without you baby
but you're still on my lonely mind
I'm here without you baby
and I dream about you all the time
I'm here without you baby
but youre still with me in my dreams
and tonite, girl
it's only you and me
"So damn easy to say that life's so hard
Everybody's got their share of battle scars
As for me, I'd like to thank my lucky stars
That I'm alive and well
It'd be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain
But not me, I'm alive
And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathin' in and out's a blessing, can't you see?
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
And I'm alive and well
I'm alive and well
Stars are dancin' on the water here tonight
It's good for the soul when there's not a soul in sight
This boat has caught its wind and brought me back to life
Now I'm alive and well
And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathing in and out's a blessing, can't you see?
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
Now I'm alive and well
Yeah, I'm alive and well"
It was both crushing - all my dreams had just gone up in flames, I was very far from well, but I was alive and I was managing to breathe in and out, and for whatever reason, that's what I really focused in on from that song. That breathing in and out was a blessing just then, that doing that and nothing else was ok. That maybe I'd be ok.
Dave Matthew's The Space Between got me too, as you say, in the new code, especially these two bits:
"he Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain
But will I hold you again?
These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like 'Will it rain today?'
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we're playing"
...
"The Space Between
What's wrong and right
Is where you'll find me hiding, waiting for you
The Space Between
Your heart and mine
Is the space we'll fill with time
The Space Between..."
And this one took me a long while, but it does comfort me, sometimes more bitterly, sometimes more beautifully.
Life Ain't Always Beautiful by Gary Allen (very personal, written after his wife committed suicide)
"Life ain't always beautiful
Sometimes it's just plain hard
Life can knock you down, it can break your heart
Life ain't always beautiful
You think you're on your way
And it's just a dead end road at the end of the day
But the struggles makes you stronger
And the changes make you wise
And happiness has its own way of takin' it sweet time
[chorus]
No,life aint always beautiful
Tears will fall sometimes
Life aint always beautiful
But it's a beautiful ride
Life aint always beautiful
Some days I miss your smile
I get tired of walkin' all these lonely miles
And I wish for just one minute
I could see your pretty face
Guess I can dream, but life don't work that way
But the struggles makes me stronger
And the changes make me wise
And happiness has its own way of takin' its sweet time
No, life ain't always beautiful
But I know I'll be fine
Hey, life ain't always beautiful
But its a beautiful ride
What a beautiful ride"
To Survive by Joan as Police Woman
sleep now, little one
I'll sing to you, little one
there's no one here
who means you any harm
little one
I know what it means to be sad
it never goes
so learn to hold it close
as a friend
'cause we never know how much we can take
before we break
the spell in our
haunted house
I've never felt alone
like I do now, this moment
I don't belong here at all
must find the spark to go on
little one
'cause I owe it to us
to tend the fire
and fend off fear
the fear in me
so near to me
it never goes
so learn to let it in
like the rain
'caause we never know
how much we can take
before the storm breaks
the storm of our wild design
I've never felt this way
or maybe I do everyday
what is this gift to be alive?
must find the spark,
the spark to survive.
and Something of an End by My Brightest Diamond
(good one for the sob-spring which I am perfecting of late)
When you came jumpin' down the stairs
Screamin' bloody awful
You woke up God & everyone
Screamin' bloody awful
So we took you to the doctor
He said yeah it's a bad one
& there's such a shame about it
'Cause she's so pretty
& then the earth sarted shakin'
& yeah it was crazy
& heaven & hell came crashing down
& then the earth sarted shakin'
& yeah it was crazy
& heaven & hell came crashing down
It was beautiful & terrible
So beautiful & terrible
The phone call
You never expect
Did somebody get it yet
It's a sound you never forget
Because the earth starts shakin'
& yeah it's crazy
Heaven & hell come crashing down
& then the earth starts shakin
& yeah it's so crazy
Heaven & hell come crashing
They come crashing
It's so beautiful & terrible
So beautiful & terrible
It was something of an end
Of a lovely & a wild thing
So beautiful in the morning
You're beautiful
So beautiful
You're beautiful in the morning
& I can't seem to get it through your head
No matter what I do
I can't seem to get it through your head
That I always love you
I thought of you and this post as we arrived in Maui two weeks ago, and our first morning there we spent atop Mount Haleakala watching the sunrise. Walked into a restaurant post sunrise and Brokedown Palace was playing - not the version by The Grateful Dead, but a beautiful cover nonetheless, and it hit me to my core:
Fare you well, my honey, fare you well my only true one.
All the birds that were singing are flown, except you alone.
I'm going to leave this brokedown palace,
On my hands and my knees, I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed by the waterside,
In my time,in my time, I will roll, roll, roll.
In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside I will lay my head.
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
River going to take me, sing sweet and sleepy,
sing me sweet and sleepy all the way back home.
It's a far gone lullaby, sung many years ago.
Mama, mama many worlds I've come since I first left home.
Goin' home, goin' home, by the waterside I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
Going to plant a weeping willow,
By the bank's green edge it will grow, grow, grow.
Sing a lullaby beside the water,
Lovers come and go, the river roll, roll, roll.
Fare you well, fare you well, I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
Rolling in the Deep
The scars of your love
Remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
The scars of your love
They leave me breathless
I can't help feeling
We could've had it all