Last year someone gave me Indigo Girls’ new Christmas album. I played it on my computer while I was wrapping presents. This song came on, and that was the end of that. I had never heard it before. It’s a cover of an old Melissa Manchester tune.
I brought my tree down to the shore
The garland and the silver star
To find my peace and grieve no more
To heal this place inside my heart
I still can’t listen to it without physically transforming into a pile of tears. I couldn’t even get through the first verse of this version. Just reading the lyrics kills me. Forgive me for not watching the whole video before I posted it here. I just…couldn’t.
I keep hoping that something will fill my heart. I do this self-torture series of sad songs because it helps me feel my feelings. The music reaches a place inside me that is so raw and vulnerable and makes my emotions rise to the surface. I feel a passion that makes me want to share it with you. So, to those of you, like my mother, who wonder why I do this to myself – that’s why. When I start posting happy songs instead, we’ll all know that I’m on my way to healing.
Oh my friend,
My version of “be kind to yourself” is something on the order of “be kind to the human condition”. Be proud of the depths of your sadness for it is matched on the other side by the height of your joy. You don’t get one without the other. You cannot celebrate your love for Lisa without also honoring the deep loss her death has brought you. It’s the good news, bad news about living: the only way to avoid emotional pain is to avoid emotional connections. You know, I’m sure, people who do that. I also know that you’re incapable of that–which is why you are who you are.
{{{{{BIG BIG HUG}}}}}}}}
I think this is why I read the Valentines Day card Chris gave me last year, two weeks before he cracked the plaster in our bedroom and cursed at me. And then I read my copy of the divorce paperwork my attorney sent him. And I did not cry. I didn’t even get the earringy, creepy crawling cold chill in my arms or a flip in my stomach. In reading it, and then throwing them both in the “to shred” bag, I knew that (1) I was braver than I have been; and (2) I AM doing better.
But I also know that I am secretly happy the weather was bad and Jackson and I didn’t go to St. Louis for tonight with friends. Because last year we had the adult get away to St. Louis for New Years, and it was as flat and lame as could be. And it is better to remember that alone on my couch with Jackson and his friend playing in the other room. Perhaps next year will be the fun get away with another fam!
Love you.
Thanks for those kind words, Jane and Mom. And thank you for sharing Suz!