Thursday, September 23, 2010

Murder in the City



I'm busy today, so just going to share this link to an article about the Avett Brothers:

http://www.spin.com/articles/exclusive-preview-avett-brothers-live-dvd


The article also includes a link to Scott Avett singing "Murder in the City" live in front of 9,000 people. It was really neat to read about Scott Avett's thoughts on the song and the first time he played it. This was one of Brian's favorite songs, and the last line has been both a torment and a comfort to me in the past 8 months. Brian and I sang this line to each other when he was alive, I whispered it to him in the hospital right after I found out he was gone, and I put this in the Valentine's Day card I left at the cemetery this year. I never thought it would ring so true as it does after his death. It's just an incredible song about life and death, family, and love between spouses.

1 comment:

  1. Hi...I came across your blog in the comment you left for this video (huuuuge co-fan of those guys). I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss and how brave I think you are for openly talking about it. I lost my mom a little over five years ago (I was only 24), and don't get me wrong, I would not pretend that our two losses are the same or have the exact same effects on our lives! But I also started a blog shortly after she died to just try and process all my feelings, and it was one of the best things I ever did. I've seen many grieving people keep it all stuffed down and suffer even more emotional damage because of that. Granted, there are times, especially now that it has been a while since it happened, that I just don't feel like "going there" emotionally either because I got tired of crying, but thoughts of her are ever-present, and I'm glad to say that now the memories of her make me smile more than cry. There is still some bitterness over the injustice, and I still feel robbed of time we should've had, but I'm able to focus more now on how grateful I am to have had her for any amount of time. And real love between any two people doesn't end with death. It's so cliche-sounding...but it's true. I don't believe for a minute that she is completely gone.

    I read through your "guide" to handling a grieving person, and I thought it was incredibly well-put. It's funny...several friends since then have experienced huge, traumatic losses of their own, and I sometimes still find myself not knowing what to say...I guess because there's not always something good you can say no matter what. Sometimes just being there is enough, and yes, not tiptoeing around it but still maintaining tactfulness. It took me a long time to stop being annoyed by people who would complain about their moms. I guess at some point, I was reminded that people are only human. It's still hard for me to see people smoking, though, because she died of lung cancer.

    Anyway, I just wanted to wish you the best and tell you that at some point, the pain does become more manageable. It doesn't go away, things don't necessarily get "easier," and things definitely don't go back to "normal." BUT it becomes more manageable, and even though it may be terribly annoying for you to hear it right now when the loss is so fresh, if you continue processing it and working through it and working hard to keep yourself afloat, one day you will wake up and realize..."What's that emotion - oh! I'm happy! How about that." It may catch you totally off-guard, or it may be a slow rebuilding. But either way, it WILL happen IF you believe it will happen and believe that you deserve for it to happen. I think you have to really want it and strive for it. At my lowest of lows, there was still something deep down that kept telling me to surge on, some great force of will that kept telling me I couldn't stay down forever because it would break her heart to see it. My pets helped me tremendously too...I had to get out of bed and take care of them; I had to go to work and pay for their care and a place for us to live. Their unconditional love (and the fact that they can't stand to see me cry and will get up in my face until I am laughing) was a huge part of what brought me through.

    Reaching out to other widows will be the other most valuable thing you can do for yourself besides this blog and being open about it. I made some of my closest friends by finding a casual group of girls that meets once a month, all who had lost their moms young, and it has been such a gift. We can say things to each other that would probably sound morbid or crazy to anyone else, and we "get" each other.

    Okay, I'll just keep rambling if I don't stop now. :)

    ReplyDelete