I remember walking into my Grandmother’s living room. He was sitting in Grandpa’s chair. I don’t remember seeing him cry before or since, but he cried for a long time that day. He played Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding again and again, tears silently streaming down his face. I remember trying to console him, feeling scared and powerless and overwhelmed by the loss of my Grandfather and any force that could impact my Father this way.

For my entire adult life I’ve had a copy of that album.

In the final stages of creating this blog I’ve found my heart so burdened. I’m picking off lots of barely healed scabs and opening lots of raw wounds. I’ve shed more than my share of tears. I have been playing this song so often lately. It’s funny that whenever my heart is heavy I need to hear it. It’s equal parts catharsis and visceral memory.

It’s interesting how those distant memories can so strongly impact our future, our ways of coping, and our perspectives.

I know I don’t say it enough, but some of the best parts of me I learned from you.

I love you Dad.


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