grief | bloodteethandflame

Category: grief

Today

We lost our beautiful girl…

And we are heartbroken.

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Up on the Roof

Lately, I’ve been having some medical issues that cause me some pain, so as you might imagine, I haven’t been sleeping as well as I would like.

So, there I was, early this morning, feeling tired and a little miserable, and suddenly, my brain was overcome with an odd ear worm.

I honestly don’t know what could have triggered me to start thinking about this song as I lay there in the dark, silent house.

It wasn’t even a song that I liked – and even worse, I didn’t even know who sang it – but I couldn’t get this song to stop looping it through my head endlessly

At first, it was just the bright little lazy melody, and then I recalled some words:

When this old world starts getting me down,

And people are just too much for me to face…

It was ‘Up on the Roof’ by the Drifters.

(^^^ I had to Google that at 4 am)

And I will admit that it has been quite a while since I have had such a weird instance of pandoramancy.

But there you have it.

And once I found out who sang ‘Up on the Roof’ – it led me down a little bit of a nostalgic rabbit hole, which caused me to reach a few connections in my head.

It’s true that I have been able to relate to that message, as this old world *has* been getting me down, and I have been feeling a little emotionally overwhelmed lately.

While it was never one of my favorite songs, it was definitely one of my dad’s favorite songs…

He used to sing it out loud, often while he did yardwork, or while driving, and therefore, it definitely is a song that I could associate with my dad.

Sometimes, my dad would sigh heavily and then joke that he needed to get away, you know, I need to get up on the roof or something...but honestly, I never made that connection as to why he would say that he needed to get up on the roof after a hard day of working construction. (Which, ironically, sometimes required him to be up on a roof all day, working, so you can imagine why I would wonder, ‘why? Does he want to go back to work? 🤔 )

You see, my dad could be kind of a misanthrope, or even a curmudgeon, and yet, thinking it over, I realized suddenly that the song wasn’t so much about the singer being a misanthrope as much as it could be some gentle advice about taking a break when you’re feeling overwhelmed…

And you know what? Thinking on it, I realized that this past Sunday marked 17 years since my father passed away.

~~~

As well, this weird little circle-back thought occurred to me too, which recalled Rumi:

Well, I’ll take it.

March 3, 2022

Three.

Dear Bobby:

I woke up this morning, thinking of you.

When I logged into my laptop, with coffee in hand, Facebook reminded me how three years ago today, my husband, my youngest son and I flew home to Massachusetts.

~~~

Two weeks before, we’d gotten that terrible phone call.

They’d said you’d gone unconscious.

They’d said that you’d had a stroke.

We prayed so hard through the days between

You squeezing your mother’s hand suddenly

And when they’d said you had a long road of rehabilitation ahead of you.

We had so much hope that you’d come through this somehow.

~~~

Though what I remember most was sitting with you in the backyard on that warm summer day in July 2014.

We were listening to Amy Winehouse, drinking whiskey, and talking about heartbreak.

(I mean, what a cliche, right?)

But what I remember most was how easily I had slipped into sharing details with you about my most recent hurts, the latest in the litany of pain that marked that horribly emotional, difficult summer.

But that was you – you were always so open, so easy to talk to, to laugh with, and to just be. You listened and allowed me to just be what I was that summer, which was probably sad, and maybe even more than a bit emotionally broken.

And I will never forget what you said to me that day, while I wallowed in my emotions.

You said:

I don’t know how I’m gonna help, but I wanna help. I’m hearin’ ya and I want ya to know I’m here for ya. I wanna tell ya, I’m here. I’m gonna be here for ya. I wanna help ya figure this all out. Always. I’m here. I’m here for ya.

And that was so you. You always had the blunt honesty to admit to me that you didn’t know what you could do to help me, but you offered me your presence, with a standing offer to be there to help me figure it all out.

Well, Bobby I never did figure it all out, but you listened, and you were there, and that was really what I needed. It did help me, you did help me. I will always be grateful for that, for your presence, and for your help.

~~~

It was hard to say goodbye to you, Bobby.

But I am thinking of you today.