Your Life is Now
I haven’t listened to my John Mellencamp CD with the song “Your Life is Now” on it since right after my brother Danny died in 2001. One of my favorite last good memories of Dan was dancing to this 1998 CD with him and my sister Kathy. It was during a family Labor Day cook-out in Massachusetts, and Kathy, Dan, and I left the outdoor party to play this new CD that Dan had brought with him from Houston, where he lived then. Somebody was filming with a camcorder as we danced and sang loudly along with the songs in Kathy’s living room.
Dan especially liked the song about John’s hooligan sons, probably because he was one himself when he was a kid. Well I got two circus clowns here who like to fight … They got one black eye and a bloody nose … They are the hoodlums of my third wife … Whatever I say they will oppose …
I liked “Your Life is Now,” and as I sang it I felt like I was singing it for Dan. He wasn’t sick yet, but somehow we all knew that he was vulnerable and wanted him to take better care of himself. See the moon roll across the stars … See the seasons turn like a heart … Your father’s days are lost to you … This is your time here to do what you will do … Your life is now …
When the wound of loss is new and wide open you tend to live close to it. You probe it and try to purge it by looking at old photo albums and watching videos of your missed loved one. Hearing their voice one last time before you have to store it away is especially important. Soon after Dan died I wanted nothing more than to see images of him and my brother Jim, who died just one month before Dan. I wanted to hear their voices and remember everything I could about them.
That kind of active grieving doesn’t last. There comes a time when you don’t want to look long or listen too closely. You want quieter and less frequent memories. You protect yourself.
It’s been 5 years since I witnessed my brother Danny die. Today I pulled out the John Mellencamp CD and listened to “Your Life is Now.” At one time it was my favorite song to dance to. I was warmed up, had already been dancing. I wondered if I could handle it.
When I was five years old, my brother Danny, who was four, went to Florida with our grandparents for the summer, but he stayed longer than that. For most of that period, from my point of view, it was “out of sight out of mind” when it came to him. But one day I found his shoes in a closet and the memory of him suddenly overwhelmed me. I carried his shoes around with me all that day and cried inconsolably. I can still remember how it felt, a vague awakening, like the jarring and blurring of past and future memories. A dress rehearsal for what was to come?
In this undiscovered moment … Lift your head up above the crowd … We could shake this world … If you would only show us how … Your life is now … Within the first few notes of the song I knew how the rest would go.
The pain is as immediate as it ever was. I’m five years old again and my brother is gone. I’m Inconsolable.
Post note: My brother Dan and John Mellencamp share the same exact birthday, October 7th 1951. Some say they look alike. I can’t seem to post photos of my brothers here, but you can go to my website for photos of Jim and Dan HERE.
January 26th, 2007 10:13 am
Sometimes those songs too intimately associated with our pain, just have to be retired.
January 26th, 2007 10:43 am
This is so coincidental and strange all rolled into one.
I have that same CD in my car and I have been playing it everyday for the past month. I don’t cry, I feel Danny all around me and cherish the thoughts of him dancing.
Did you know John Cougar Mellancamp’s NEW CD came out yesterday?
I love you!!
January 26th, 2007 11:18 am
Colleen, I can empathize completely. My sister died in 2002 (from malpractice), and a shadow of the shock and grief will always be there. I think of it … as her absense, the hole that she left, will forever be part of who I am.
I am guessing… that the “S” in that funny cat signature… is his tail. 🙂 What’s a cat without a tail?
I know of The Secret, but haven’t seen/read it. It’s “Manifesting 101,” and brings back a lot of college memories from when I was studying it. It’s not new (but fresh), as you probably guessed. I’ve always believed in my own ability to draw/magnetize stuff to me. 🙂 I’m a firm believer in being the co-creator of my life.
I kinda hint at it in a back post here, but didn’t talk about minifesting exactly: http://shubertalleyshephard.blogspot.com/2006/02/tennis-match-with-god.html
Thank you for sharing your John Mellancamp story. I may not think of him the same in the future.
~S
January 26th, 2007 11:41 am
Beutifully written and felt deeply. We all become 5 year olds when it comes to losing those we love.
January 26th, 2007 12:08 pm
Shepherd, So sorry to learn that you understand this post all too well.
The Law of Attraction isn’t new to me either, but I frequently need refresher courses on it, and it was presented in the DVD in a way that was like an innoculation.
She, I had just finished writing this post when I went over to visit Rick’s place and was shocked to see that he had a post on John Mellencamp…Here
http://cassowary.wordpress.com/2007/01/24/aint-that-america/#comments
January 26th, 2007 12:26 pm
It’s so hard to read about grief, it stimulates the old feelings left over from my last grieving, and raises the fear of the next. That does not mean I don’t appreciate your post, I do. Grief is as much a part of life as joy, I suppose.
January 26th, 2007 1:48 pm
I guess I was due for a cry. Sometimes a good cry and time set apart for feeling makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something. The pain is rich because of how deep it can go, but I’m not anxious to go there again any time soon.
You’re right, Gerry. The worst part for me about grieving someone’s death is knowing that you can’t escape it happening again. Once someone close to you dies see how easy it is to do so and, on a bad day, you figure it’s only a matter of time before everyone is gone, and you wonder how will you bear it and what’s the point.
January 26th, 2007 2:55 pm
My sister is in a video from this cd of Mellencamps. She lives in a town next to the Bloomington, Indiana area where he lives. My mother in law is good friends from working with John’s first wife. They go to the same church.
Small world.
January 26th, 2007 3:15 pm
That’s a big part of what I like about John Mellencamp, his regular small town guy appeal.
January 26th, 2007 5:20 pm
The thing that helps me to rise above grief is to live one day at a time. This has been a very hard concept for me but one that I treasure now. I kindof puts my losses where I can handle them. Thanks for this heart-felt post, Colleen.
January 26th, 2007 8:48 pm
Innoculation… I like that. 🙂
I welcome refreshers too; helps keep focus and perspective.
~S
January 26th, 2007 11:40 pm
Hello, Michelle sent me. Thanks for sharing you journey through the grief while maintaining a positive outlook.
January 27th, 2007 9:01 am
Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry anew for your loss. As you know, that’s one of my very favorite songs in the world and it is sad to think that you won’t ever be able to listen to it again in the same way.
You write about grief so eloquently, but that gift has had a terrible cost, hasn’t it?
January 27th, 2007 11:12 am
music and scents has the same effect on me. certain songs and smells can bring memories both good and bad back. it is weird…it is sometimes good…sometimes bad.
i got your comment on my old blog…thanks…it is indeed the little things that can bring a smile to us. check out my latest post at http://www.justlu.com i posted a picture just for you!
January 27th, 2007 1:33 pm
Wow, Colleen, that’s a very mysterious and almost eerie connection. Maybe there are no coincidences as some say. I’m sorry you are still grieving with such raw emotion. You were threaded deeply into both of your brothers’ lives and they are still so much a part of you that this is understandable…and 5 years goes by fast and seems like a shorter time when measured by such a loss.
January 27th, 2007 11:49 pm
The memory of the four year old finding the shoes made this feel so real and intense. Thanks for this beautiful piece of writing, Colleen.
It is something I will come back and read again.
January 28th, 2007 9:24 pm
I have to believe the grief is another layer of healing, as painful as that layer is. Many hugs to you, and to the child within….
January 28th, 2007 10:12 pm
Oh I can’t read all these comments before bed, it is breaking my heart and I will start worrying about my own loved ones dying and never fall asleep! But what true words…life is now, we can’t waste a minute of it. It isn’t like we get to go back and do it all over again.
January 29th, 2007 1:14 pm
“The worst part for me about grieving someone’s death is knowing that you can’t escape it happening again.”
So true. How do we love and hold on loosely all at the same time?