Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Winter, Storms, Greetings, Goodbyes Pt.3

As I walk by myself down the roads near my parents' place in Michigan on a cold Winter's morning, I try to let the familial negativity of the preceding two days wash off me in the cold Winter wind. The chill air brings tears to my eyes, and the sun shines off the snow. It's very quiet here, and I enjoy the silence for a while, but I can't resist putting on my Zune and listening to some Immortal. Immortal is a Norwegian Black Metal band, whose songs deal mostly with frozen , icy realms where swords clash and tyrants rule from raven thrones. They are the only band I know that : a) used the word 'permafrost' in a song, and b) made it sound evil. As I listen in the cold wind and walk throught he snowy landscape, it 's an appropriate soundtrack. After a few songs, though, I turn it off and return to the silence. On my solitary journey I come across a tree stump with two empty beer bottles inserted into it. I think, was this where two friends toasted one another? Or perhaps two young lovers sneaking off in the cold Winter night to see each other? Or maybe a lonely fellow, drinking and pondering life's mysteries as he sits on a stump on the side of the can only wonder.

The next couple of days are spent with my parents. Comfort food is made and eaten, as we use each other's company as a balm against the loss we've shared. I know that us being there is especially good for my Mom. She and my Dad(and to a lesser extent, us kids) took care of my other Grandma(my Dad's Mom) after her husband passed away, and when she died, my Mom said it was like losing a parent and a child. I'm sure she feels the same way now, especially since it's her own Mom. I hurt from my own sense of loss, but I hurt even more for my Mom, because I know she must be hurting more than anyone else right now. When I saw her at the end of the viewing, kneeling in front of the casket and starting to cry, my heart brioke. I hate situations where there's nothing that can be done...the animal in me longs for something tangible to lash out at, to smash and break and kill, to pull the hurt out and choke it, tear it apart, to stop it...but things like this are intangible and unstoppable, and only time can make the pain lessen.

We pack up for the trip back to Texas. We plan on going straight through. My brother suggests we go through Oklahoma, since Kim and I haven't been on that route before, and it's about the same distance and time. As night approaches, we discover the weather is getting bad. On the satellite radio and on my laptop, we confirm that the path we've chose is right where there's a storm brewing...damaging winds, rain, possible tornadoes, etc. We decide to press on, and if the weather gets too dicey, we'll pull over and tough it out. As we head into the rain and wind, the song 'Into The Void' by Black Sabbath comes on the radio...oddly appropriate, I think to myself. It's windy, and the rain is harsh in spots, but as we finally cross into Texas, the clouds part, and the Moon stares down like the eye of Odin upon us. As on the trip up, snacks, energy drinks, and the occasional stop for something resembling 'real' food keep us going. As on the way up, I sleep little, as it's uncomfortable in the truck and I always feel the obligation to keep awake to keep the driver company even if I'm not driving. We see the afternmath of the storm on the way down...we saw accidents (some bad) in the rain at night, and in the daylight in Texas we see a trailer deposited on a chainlink fence, smashing it, and a large sign for a car dealership torn apart like so much paper.
We finally arive home late this morning. I'm so happy to see my dog Odin, and he's just as happy to see me. I miss him and the cats (Pict, Raven, Loki, and Phoenix) when I'm away. I call my folks to let them know we're home safe, and I gratefully flop onto my own bed. I know there's still a lot more grief to get through, but at least I'm home again.
I want to thank everyone and anyone here among my fellow bloggers who expressed sympathy and condolences. It really does mean a lot to me, and it does help. Thank you all, you're the best. Take care, everyone.


Charles Gramlich said...

I'm glad you guys made it back home safely. You hit the feeling exactly right when you spoke of times where there is nothing you can do even though you want to tear and smash the hurt away. The place I've felt this the strongest was when I saw my son with his heart broken and there was nothing I could do to take away the pain. It's the same with your mother and I know that has to be a great agony.

Scott said...



When I got the news that my Grandma had passed, I just wanted to put my fist through a wall, break a chair, something physical. The rational part of me knows that this will do no good, and only make me feel better for a couple of seconds, but the primitive side of me desperately wants to make tangible my pain and hurt. To feel helpless is frustrating.

Lana Gramlich said...

Welcome home. Glad you got back alright.

Heff said...

Hope these posts helped you "let it out". I know it can't cure all pains, but hell, It HAD to help.

A little Sabbath "Into The Void" never hurts, either, lol.

Scott said...


Thanks yet again.


It did help a did Sabbath and many other songs on the way back...that particular station played a lot of Dio-era Sabbath as well, which I've always liked. Thanks to you and everyone for 'listening', as it were.

Virginia Lady said...

That helpless feeling is another aspect of grief that truly sucks. I'm glad you made it home safe and music can really be a good escape, I'm glad you found some tunes that you could relate to.

Scott said...



Michelle's Spell said...

Glad you're back -- such an awful trip to make, so sad. I know what you mean about being helpless against certain kinds of pain -- a terrible feeling. I remember my parents' deaths like it was yesterday. And when their parents died (when I was very young - longevity does not seem to be my family's strong suit). Hang in there and my condolences to your whole family.

Scott said...


Thanks for your kind words and support.