It’s Been a Long Year

I seem now to get my new music tastes from other people’s Instagram posts. I heard a new song on a ‘story,’ Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan. I immediately enjoyed it, Spotified it and added it to my playlists that were appropriate. On listening to the song for the first time, the very first lyrics are, ‘It’s been a long year.’ And that hit me square between the eyes because by fuck, it’s near the middle of September and it has been a long fucking year. Now time is an odd thing, because I feel like this year has been longer than normal and yet I saw a lovely theatre friend the other day, had a quick chat, realised we haven’t seen each other since April and then realised that April was actually over four months ago and not the two months I thought. So for me time has galloped on and yet dragged my nuts through gravel.

Monday will be the second anniversary of Dad’s death. Grief is a funny, unfunny, shitty thing. It’s an odd one where you walk around going about life and then something from nowhere slaps you in the face and you want to cry. It’s a difficult one for me to deal with because I like to think that I can moderate my emotions most of the time, but then for absolutely no reason I’m overwhelmed. A different lovely theatre friend of mine, who’s father also passed away a few years before, advised me that this never goes away, it just gets less. My therapist said the same thing, she was just less lovely about it, but not mean. Sometimes I do need to be told. There are days when I can think about Dad and / or talk about him and I’m fine. And there are other days when I’m watching something unrelated on the TV and I just burst into tears. More nuts, more gravel, more dragging.

There’s quite a famous ’round table’ with a few A list Hollywood celebrities that pops up on Instagram every now and then. Now celebrity status doesn’t do a lot for me, not really that interested but I’m willing to listen to some because they seem like decent human beings. And when I find out they’re a rude weirdo, I shrug and move on from them. But Tom Hanks seems like an ok guy who just happens to have a lot of fame and money. Back to the round table. He’s speaking and offering advice and he says the age old Persian adage, ‘this too shall pass.’ Something I’ve heard before and something I’m sure you’ve heard as well, but for whatever reason Mr Hanks has gotten me to remember this little maxim. This too shall pass. It’s probably the soothing sound of his voice, his actor quality tone and the supportive room in which it was said. This too shall pass.

But which is it? This too shall lessen, but will hit you sometimes or this too shall pass? I think for me it’s not either or. If you look at ‘pass’ as a way to say lessen, then this sense of being overwhelmed shall pass. The grief will always be there, but it will quieten down and month by month it does seem to get a little less noisy. This too shall pass.

I just really miss my Dad.