Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Still got the blues for you

Sorry Marty … I just haven’t felt like writing for the last week or so.  I’m sorting out how I would like to consciously “have” this January.  And so, dear readers, a little background for those of you who don’t know this already …

Three years ago next week marks the passing of my son Duncan.  Up until this year, my settling into January has been uneasy and filled with trepidation, a deep sadness, and a quiet but ever-present heartache.  Usually one or more of my siblings have come for a visit so that I am not alone and for that I am deeply grateful. At the same time, I am seen as a very strong and cheerful person, always looking on the bright side, always finding the silver lining in every cloud, etc. And there is no doubt that there have been many gifts throughout my grieving process … in fact, it was Duncan’s fondest wish that Marty and I became friends as he and Marty’s son were best buds and they both thought we’d make quite a pair.  (He was so right wasn’t he Marty?)

I know that I don’t want to go through the rest of my life dreading the arrival of January and the attendant blues.  At the same time, I need to actually just have it, without trying to be someone that I'm not, or do anything about it.  I need to open to what this particular January is for me, and not try to change it, make it better, or fix it.  I just want “what is”.  No matter what it looks or feels like.

And I actually think I’m on to something here.  For the past week or so, I have been receptive to my deepest thoughts and emotions about this.  I haven’t tried to hide how I’m feeling, or push thoughts away, and I’m being much more gentle with myself.  What I am realizing is that when I try not to be something, I’m not being present.  And when I’m not being present, I miss what’s going on around me.  So had I not chosen to just be, I may have not been able to fully appreciate the lovely synchronicity of one of Duncan’s friends popping by the store to tell me of her latest dream about him.  I may have missed the incredible tenderness of a twenty-two-year-old man who decided to stay with me at the store for the afternoon because he felt I needed the company.  (He was working across the street and he could see when he needed to run across and help a customer.  It turns out he had lost his sister four years ago in December and knew exactly what was going on with me, and thus I with him.)  Or the local teenaged rapscallion who came in to the store today and sat down at the piano because he wanted me to hear a piece of music that he was learning.  It was so beautiful and touching.  I had no idea this kid could play like that! 

I’m not saying that I like January yet.  I am saying there is a way to experience January in a way that is not charged for me.  Next Thursday evening, I will be sitting on the beach in Lions Bay, a bonfire blazing, a bagpiper in the background, with white roses to float out on the tide in memory of my beautiful son. 

The first time we performed together, we played “Still Got the Blues” by Gary Moore.  The last time I saw him, we happened to play that song again.   And while I still got the blues for my boy, I am so very grateful that he chose me to be his Mom.  Thanks Dunc. xox


  1. Beautiful piece Christie, you are an amazing spirit! Much love and light to you!

  2. Your writing touched me deeply as I read it. I wish I could be there with you this year as I was last year. I,too, am grateful that Duncan was (and still is) a part of my life. Huge hug to you and much love, as always, M xo

  3. And I too am grateful, for Duncan, a light that will never dim...a light that touched so many hearts and will always continue to inspire. I am also grateful for you. As Marianne Williamson said "As we liberate ourselves from our fear we automatically liberate others." That is what I see you doing every time you open to feeling it all.