Grief Triggers

Music - the language of the soul

I can go weeks without crying, and then…WHOOSH! The floodgates open. Grief triggers are often unexpected.

Last week I was listening to an audio book, and I heard the word “butterscotch”. Matt loved butterscotch pie, and I made dozens for him. There is even a story that won’t die about my non-existent meringue on ONE pie – just one. I have pie crust on my list to make one this week, something I haven’t done since his death.

This weekend I had Pandora on while reading. Smoky Robinson’s, “Just to See Her” came on, and I was transported back to weekends in Atlanta while we were dating. I remembered concerts in Chastain Park and picnics in Piedmont Park – happy times when our love was young. Music is the language of the soul – especially true when it came to Matt.

While cleaning up my Google drive, I traveled down a trail of tears. Such precious video memories! I listened to Matt sing, “Sweet Little Jesus Boy” at Starla’s Christmas party. I watched him conduct Radica in the year-end tradition of “For Good” which so many of them sang at his Celebration of Life. There were numerous videos of him conducting choirs – at Briarwood, Dawson, Tianjin International School. I wept (ugly cry) for an hour and eventually had to pull myself away to recover. Each video evoked the pride I had in the excellence with which Matt did everything. I can’t put into words how much I miss hearing him sing.

With Lisa’s help I’ve almost finished cleaning out the attic which contained box after box of music – choral anthems, sheet music, oratorios. It has been heart-wrenching. As I touched each piece, I could hear Matt singing it, playing it or remember him conducting it. Matt’s life was music. He sang beautifully. He played piano and tuba. He conducted choirs, bringing out the very best in them. He sang when he proposed to me – “When I Fall in Love”. He sang the prayer in our wedding – “We are an Offering”. We sang a duet in Nell’s wedding – “Grow Old Along with Me”. Matt sang numerous solos in churches – most notably “You’re the Only Jesus”. He sang in countless weddings. These pieces were all in the attic. It’s hard to let go of these, but I managed to curate the collection down to one box. This music represents the biggest part of who he was. I’m glad to be almost finished with this painful clean-out, but there are good memories there. Thanks for all your help, Lisa.

I’ve been told that these grief triggers can become grief glimmers. Occasionally this happens for me, but not in the last week; it’s just been painful. I have felt the feels. I have Surthrived.