Living with grief, the kindness of a stranger, and learning thru music

March 5, 2020 1:17 PM

Almost 30 years after losing her son, Jason, Judy received an email from Matt, a friend of Jason's from college. "I hope you are doing well after all these years… And I hope my note doesn’t bring back unnecessary pain. I just wanted you to know that he is not forgotten." Soon, Judy and Matt were communicating every few weeks, and then Matt suggested they attend a performance of Dead & Company together in a 20,000-seat amphitheater near San Francisco. Reluctantly, Judy agreed. How Going To A Dead & Company Concert With A Stranger Helped Me Heal After Losing My Son “I hate crowds and loud rock music, but I was being offered a gift: the chance to learn more about my son all these years after he was taken from me.” (Judy Nelson for Huffpost) [via Mltshp]

Thanks to nug.tv and the Internet Archive, you can experience that show.

posted by filthy light thief (12 comments total)

This reminds me of the time I visited my old friend Emma's mom shortly after my sister was killed by a drunk driver in 2007. My friend Emma was murdered 10 years earlier, in 1997.

I knew her mom mostly in passing, as high school random friends who drop by tend to do... She vaguely remembered me (but remembered my friend more who was more sociable in general). It was healing. Hopefully for both of us, not just me. But it was good at the time for me with both of those happening.

Sadly her mom and I didn't go to any deadhead concerts, but Emma was the type who WOULD have gone ;)
posted by symbioid at 1:38 PM on March 5, 2020 [2 favorites]

I loved this bit:

We hear the first, gentle notes of “Ripple.”

I remember Matt had seen two Dead shows in Chicago with his wife, Jennifer, and had emailed me about the song.

“‘Ripple’ is a big deal, because it makes you think about those who have passed on,” he wrote. “It’s the first time I heard it live and I had a few tears thinking about Jason.”

Matt slips his arm through mine and we sway with the crowd. Each note connects me more to Jason and it offers me a sense of peace. When I hear the final words, “If I knew the way, I would take you home ... ” I realize Matt’s gift has finally allowed me to take Jason home — if only in my heart.

posted by Lyme Drop at 1:59 PM on March 5, 2020 [6 favorites]

Many people seem to think grievers should be done grieving after a year.

When a longtime friend of mine lost her son in a plane crash 10 years after Jason died, she held an annual celebration of his life. At the second party, a guest leaned over to me and said, “It’s been two years, for Christ’s sake. Why doesn’t she just get over it?” I excused myself to get a strong drink.

I can remember some of my childhood peers expressing this kind of attitude to me not that long after my father died. Where did they learn that from? Did they actually think they'd be right as rain six or twelve or eighteen months after one of their parents died? I hate this kind of psychologizing explanation, but I really think it's a denial mechanism. People don't want to be reminded of their vulnerability and of the precacity of life, because it is intolerable to them.
posted by thelonius at 2:31 PM on March 5, 2020 [7 favorites]

This was some lovely writing, thanks OP for posting.
My first dearest friend passed away 32 years ago; my grief is a gentle rain inside at all the things they missed. My best dearest friend passed away 2.5 years ago in a difficult complicated way; I'll need a lot of time to get to that gentle rain stage, as I can still be taken over by a storm just thinking about it all. Having some kind of moment where the memory isn't immediately pain but more that soft joy at just having known someone, is what I hope for and work towards. It's starting to happen, slowly.
Anyone who thinks a year is long enough time to grieve may be allowed to set that limit for themselves and see how it works out.
posted by winesong at 2:57 PM on March 5, 2020 [8 favorites]

Thelonius - I had the same experience as a kid losing my dad. Made me mad. Still makes me mad nearly 40 years later.
posted by drewbage1847 at 3:26 PM on March 5, 2020 [4 favorites]

The Dead's music can be so compassionate. That's what first drew me to it when I was in high school decades ago, in the age of aggressive hair metal and new wave -- it was the first popular music I'd ever heard that felt like a warm, sincere embrace. When they're at their best, Dead & Company bring so much heart and sincerity and aliveness to their performances, it's absolutely breathtaking, and you can feel that wave of welcoming, present energy just wash through the crowd, wave after wave, with every song. This was such a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it.
posted by treepour at 5:16 PM on March 5, 2020 [2 favorites]

The Dead's music and the feeling you can get being in the crowd as it washes over you has a sort of healing factor. I know it did for me. This was lovely.
posted by downtohisturtles at 7:03 PM on March 5, 2020

The Dead's music can be so compassionate.

Whoa ho what I want to know is, are you kind?
posted by hippybear at 7:44 PM on March 5, 2020 [3 favorites]

Beautiful.
posted by Coaticass at 10:00 PM on March 5, 2020

She picked a winner of an evening. Good weather and several highlight songs. One of the nights when the second set lawn turns into a strange network. Ripple being a church song, it was 20,000 choir members connected in trust at the end.
posted by richeditor at 6:47 AM on March 6, 2020 [1 favorite]

Where did they learn that from? Did they actually think they'd be right as rain six or twelve or eighteen months after one of their parents died?

I blame TV. It was incredibly common (in the 80s, at least) for a show to kill of the protagonists dear old friend (a guest star, natch). They'd be sad for about a minute and then they'd just carry on.

When my younger brother died at 14, I was found myself surprised at just how durable and omnipresent my grief was. It was like a piece of me had been torn out and all I could do was learn to walk around the hole. But up until then, TV had been my only portrayal of grief and it made it seem like no big deal.
posted by suetanvil at 7:11 AM on March 6, 2020 [2 favorites]

I can remember some of my childhood peers expressing this kind of attitude to me not that long after my father died. Where did they learn that from? Did they actually think they'd be right as rain six or twelve or eighteen months after one of their parents died? I hate this kind of psychologizing explanation, but I really think it's a denial mechanism.

I'd like to charitably think of it as a form of protective naivete - its wishful thinking from folks who havent been there and dont know how grief works (and, to your point about denial, seem happy not knowing how it works).
posted by Exceptional_Hubris at 9:01 AM on March 6, 2020 [2 favorites]