We had a day out on Saturday, drove to Liverpool to pick up our daughter from university and then on to the Wirral. The sun was out for more or less the first time this year and we all had an urge to see the coast, walk on a beach and take in some spring sun. We walked along the promenade at New Brighton, had some sandwiches and then drove along the coast to Hoylake and West Kirby. We took Eliza back to Liverpool, through the Wallasey Tunnel, and had some tea on Lark Lane near Sefton Park and then dropped her back at her halls of residence for a party that night. Driving home down the M62 I was struck by a wave of sadness which grew in me. This ordinary day out was exactly the sort of thing we used to do with Isaac- he'd have loved the Mersey tunnel, the wandering around new places, tea and a cake in a cafe in West Kirby. He wouldn't have been much bothered about the beach to be fair but everything else was right up his alley.
The wave of sadness broke on me later on that evening. Scrolling through social media in a distracted, needing no concentration kind of way, I clicked a link to Pictures Of You by The Cure, and was hit by that melancholic guitar line and the opening lines sung by Robert Smith, 'I've been looking so long at these pictures of you/ That I almost believe that they're real... I almost believe that the pictures/ Are all I can feel'. And that did for me, absolutely and totally, in a way I can't really explain. The tears came good and proper.
This version was released in 1990 on the Mixed Up album, a double vinyl set of remixes and re- recordings. I've listened to it a few times since Sunday night and it hasn't quite repeated the trick it did that evening but I've no doubt now that this song is connected in my brain and my emotional responses to Isaac. Funny how music can do that. I have an appointment next week to be assessed for some grief counselling. I think it's about time.
10 comments:
It's an affecting song anyway but being coupled with Isaac's memory it must have all been so hard to process.
Good luck with the grief counselling, it will help, but be prepared for a lot more tears as you go through it. Sounds like you're ready though.
There are a few songs that I still find difficult to listen to, they are so connected with people I've lost. I still find hard to listen to the Fall (there's a joke in there somewhere) after 3 years of my best friend passing. If you feel the grief rising, go with it.
That's a great thing getting the tears out. Absolute catharsis. For a while I avoided things very closely related to my mother as I knew it would lead to tears but when I was ready it really helped. I still can't listen to Hurt by Johnny Cash as she cried when she watched the video. Music's a balm and a tool.
Songs can be huge emotion triggers can't they- and it's so personal, as Jake says re: the Fall. I can imagine Johnny Cash's Hurt would do it.
Music can affect you so much and link to so many memories and feelings. It's why we obsess over it, it literally is like nothing else. Glad you all got out for the day and got some sea air, it will have done you all the world of good. Really pleased you're getting some help Adam, whatever it takes. Good luck
Glad you had a good day out with Lou and Eliza and the emotional triggers are a good thing, even if they may not always feel like it at the time. Like Nick said, the counselling will bring forth more tears and other expressions of grief, but the fact that you've allowed yourself to be vulnerable and let the feelings flow whenever they need to suggests that this is the right time to start. Love and best wishes to you all.
Thank you for your beautiful open attitude to your grief and your need for it. I will think of of him and you the next time I listen to that already stupendous song.
Diolch (as we say in welsh for Thank You).
Thanks everyone.
Adam. Again, I have to admire your courage in sharing such thoughts, feelings and emotions with us. I'll be honest in that when I saw the heading of the posting, I knew what was coming, but I wasn't quite prepared for those final few words.
You may not think you're coping well with the grief, but it looks and feels to me that your reactions are normal and to be expected. You've been incredibly strong and resolute these past few months....again, you might not think so....but believe me, in the circumstances you've faced, you most certainly have.
Hope the appointment goes according to plan. Hopefully see you on Good Friday as intended.
See you on Good Friday Jim.
Post a Comment