A new song that says so much


Music is one of my strongest emotional communication tools. It hits so many senses and just helps me feel things that at times I can’t quite put words to or am not exactly sure how to express.

There I was standing in the kitchen at 6:03 am making breakfast and listening to some random current hits off the streaming device when out of know where this song comes on. I had never heard it before this moment and there I was PJ’s, oatmeal in hand and sobbing. Thank you Mr. Dean Lewis for writing a beautiful song that really captures many of the feelings I have had over the past months. “How Do I Say Goodbye.”

The most interesting thing about grief is that you never know when it will come to visit, how long it will stay, or what it needs to express when it arrives. You can just feel it rising up in your body. I have been feeling in for the past couple of days since I went to a local grief support group on Monday. Charles called to say that he is back working on the painting and last night I had a dream that involved my dad, his aunts and uncles in Wisconsin, and my brothers. I could feel the rising of my grief and this song was kind and gentle enough to let it out simply and easily. The other gift of this song is that the lyrics and tune are not complicated, so it’s sticky in my brain. I keep singing it over and over again and thinking of new memories with my dad. It has also brought up the memories of his passing and how helpless I felt to watch my dream of us healing our relationship die with him.

Grief for what had not happened yet, but lived in my hopes and dreams seems to be the grief I am crying about these days. I wish he were here to ask questions about his past. I miss calling him and I am really starting to miss our random talks on Holidays.

While the relationship was complicated, because of both of us. It turns out the love we had for each other wasn’t nearly as complicated.

Thank you Mr. Lewis from Sydney, Australia for sharing your talented art of songwriting with the world.