I was going through some personal files the other day and came across some notes from my own doctor visits during Joe’s decline and soon after he died: chest pain, heart racing, irregular heartbeat, stomach aches, headaches. I was surprised to read this because I don’t have those symptoms now. Maybe those were physical symptoms of grief… And maybe I am on the mend.
Today is the third anniversary of Joe’s death. For about two and a half years after he died, I couldn’t generate interest in much of anything, and I’m sure I watched too much TV on my laptop. I definitely did not have the bandwidth to socialize much—conversing required too much energy. I am so grateful for friends who reached out and kept in touch, because I was not doing much reaching out myself.
But recently I noticed I am interested in life again: reading, writing, decorating, learning to quilt, even playing piano and guitar. (Music was the first thing to go after my mom died as I descended into a year-long depression, and it was the first thing to go after Joe died as well. Maybe it’s just me, but apparently it’s impossible to sing when I’m grieving).
I think I’ll be ready soon to go through Joe’s computer files and the rest of his things. Yesterday I wandered into his room (we call it “the studio” because his instruments and recording equipment are there), took his Taylor guitar down from the wall and sat in his chair and played for a while. I should do that more often—that guitar is meant to be played, not just dusted once a week. Maybe tomorrow I’ll practice on his drum kit. Anna set it up for me, and I still have Joe’s iPod shuffle (remember those?) with songs he put on it for drum practice. There’s a bunch of Switchfoot stuff, some Chris Rice and Steven Curtis Chapman…
I find myself thinking of Joe a lot these days and I miss him. (Does he remember me?) But I’m okay. Today I went out to Forest Lawn in Covina Hills to visit his gravesite. It was quiet up on the hill and I sat and listened to music that is meaningful to me. A hawk circled overhead and a black phoebe landed nearby. It was actually a pleasant time.
We will stay home for Thanksgiving this year, for the first time since Joe’s passing. We are glad to have Jamie’s fiancé Peter joining us—and helping with the cooking! I know he and Joe would have hit it off.
Thanks for following along with me so far. Your encouragement means so much! I plan to continue for the foreseeable future to write about Joe and my journey of loss and healing. And I know we said we’d be releasing more of his music, then life sort of got in the way and we’ve given you nothing—sorry! But I may yet have news in that regard, so stay tuned.
Happy Thanksgiving. In spite of this odd and confusing year, there is still much to be thankful for.
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