After Jacob's death, Karen created this blog to record insights in her grief journey. I would periodically write my insights on notes posted to my Facebook page. We feel it would be best served if we combined our efforts so I am beginning the process of copying those notes to this blog. They won't be in chronological order but I will put the original date on each one.
Many of you know that the other night Karen, Katie, and I went to see the Broadway production of ‘Wicked’ at the Fabulous Fox Theatre. We have gone to see quite a few musicals there and have always enjoyed the experience. It is a beautiful venue. I am always mesmerized by the ‘Arabian night sky’ complete with twinkling stars that is the ceiling of the Fox. I would say that ‘Wicked’ runs neck and neck with ‘Les Miserables’ as the best of the Broadway musicals we have witnessed. Last spring, when we first learned that ‘Wicked’ was coming again to the Fox, we knew we wanted to see it. Karen’s cousin, Lisa Siniard, and her son, Davis, wanted to join us and we readily agreed to go together. But, instead of a growing anticipation and excitement about seeing the show, this time it was a looming dread that captured me.
You see, this time was the first time I had gone to see ‘Wicked’ since Jacob’s death. It was Jacob that had led me into this musical world of entertainment, fantasy, and whimsy. I grew up playing sports and going to games. I didn’t go to concerts or plays – those were for ‘sissies’. It took Jacob’s life to open this wonderful world to me.
When Jacob came along, with his many health issues, we were told to steer him away from sports. I don’t know if we did a good job of ‘steering’ or what was responsible for it, but Jacob grew up loving singing and the theatre.
As much as he hated life’s spotlight on him, he loved the theatrical lights, the makeup, and the make believe of the stage. Looking back it makes sense – life had been cruel to him in many ways concerning his health, but he could escape to another world on stage and flourish! Since sports wasn’t the common denominator Jacob and I, I timidly dipped my toe into this new world and soon found myself neck deep in the enjoyment it can bring.
As I mentioned earlier, the other love of his life was singing, particularly in worship to God. This love for singing has a deep thread running through the family’s genes. Since my earliest recollections, my parents have sung in church choir. My father is an accomplished soloist and his acappella rendition of “Sweet Little Jesus Boy” is a yearly Christmas tradition. I was also active in church choirs and enjoyed singing. Karen’s side of the family has also demonstrated a love for music, but their love is shown through instrumental music. So music was woven deeply into our family’s fabric.
Sadly, once again, life dealt Jacob a lousy hand in this arena. Due to the many intubations he had to endure after his surgeries, Jacob’s vocal chords were scarred, resulting in a permanent ‘frog’ in his throat. But that did not keep him worshiping with his fatally flawed but whole heart. He took the scripture verse, ‘make a joyful noise’ seriously. Every Sunday you could see him in the balcony with his friends, singing with his eyes closed and his hands upraised. Though he was in a room full of people, he had secluded himself in worship to his God.
So now you know what ‘Wicked’ and worship have in common – they both were very close to Jacob’s heart. He loved both!
But to twist a phrase of Don McLean, the day the music died for me was June 14, 2009. Since Jacob’s death, my singing has gone silent. It is very difficult for me to sing songs of praise. It is impossible for me to express why in words because I can’t really grasp the reason why myself. To be sure, it is part of my grief process. I’m still and, probably, always will wonder why this happened this way. There is some anger and disillusionment as well. I can and do still worship, corporately and in solitude, as I mentally focus on the words of the worship songs being sung, but for now and maybe for the rest of my life, the words will not flow from my mouth in song. That is why it is difficult for me to go to worship services (note to my LifeWay employers: I do still attend church)
So, last spring, when we secured the ‘Wicked’ tickets, a gnawing, growing sense of dread crept over me. Anytime I thought about sitting in the Fox Theatre and listening to the musical that meant so much to Jacob, my eyes would tear up. In one sense, it did not seem right to be there without Jacob, but on the other hand, it only seemed proper to go in tribute to him. After all, the climatic song in the show is “For Good” and that song was chosen to be played in a video presentation of Jacob’s life at the closing of his memorial service.
As we prepared to leave for the theater, I made sure I pocketed three handkerchiefs, one for each of us (and wondered if that would be enough).
As we walked down the street toward the Fabulous Fox, brilliantly aglow in green, I had to swallow back the lump in my throat several times and blink back the tears.
As we walked into the entry way and saw the ‘Wicked’ marquee posters, I remembered how we posed for a picture underneath one the last time we came to see ‘Wicked ‘. That time there were the FOUR of us (wishing Ben & Beth were with us). Now there’s only three …
As we found our seats and leafed through the playbill, waves of grief washed over me but I held it together … OK.
The lump grew bigger and harder to swallow when the introductory music began. I tried to focus on the play and not the memories to keep my composure. I actually did pretty well …. until …..
Inevitably the climactic scene appeared …. when Glinda and Elphaba realized that their paths were permanently separating, never to see each other in this lifetime …. and I could not stop nor desired to stop the tears from flowing (I’m just glad the lights were off!) when they sang ….
I'VE HEARD IT SAID THAT PEOPLE COME INTO OUR LIVES FOR A REASON
BRINGING SOMETHING WE MUST LEARN
AND WE ARE LED TO THOSE WHO HELP US MOST TO GROW IF WE LET THEM
AND WE HELP THEM IN RETURN
WELL, I DON'T KNOW IF I BELIEVE THAT'S TRUE
BUT I KNOW I'M WHO I AM TODAY
BECAUSE I KNEW YOU...
LIKE A COMET PULLED FROM ORBIT AS IT PASSES A SUN
LIKE A STREAM THAT MEETS A BOULDER HALFWAY THROUGH THE WOOD
WHO CAN SAY IF I'VE BEEN CHANGED FOR THE BETTER?
BUT BECAUSE I KNEW YOU I HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR GOOD …
IT WELL MAY BE THAT WE WILL NEVER MEET AGAIN IN THIS LIFETIME
SO LET ME SAY BEFORE WE PART
SO MUCH OF ME IS MADE OF WHAT I LEARNED FROM YOU
YOU'LL BE WITH ME LIKE A HANDPRINT ON MY HEART
AND NOW WHATEVER WAY OUR STORIES END
I KNOW YOU HAVE RE-WRITTEN MINE BY BEING MY FRIEND...
LIKE A SHIP BLOWN FROM ITS MOORING BY A WIND OFF THE SEA
LIKE A SEED DROPPED BY A SKYBIRD IN A DISTANT WOOD
WHO CAN SAY IF I'VE BEEN CHANGED FOR THE BETTER?
BECAUSE I KNEW YOU I HAVE BEEN CHANGED FOR GOOD...
The evening was thoroughly enjoyable but emotionally exhausting. Some may ask, ‘if you dreaded it so much, why put yourself through it. You should avoid what causes you pain.” My reply is that the pain helps me to remember, it helps me to honor his life. Maybe the pain will diminish with time but I do not want it to go away. I will bear the pain as a testament of my love for him.
So I will continue to go to performances of ‘Wicked’ (and other theatrical performances) and I will continue to go to worship experiences …. But always with a handkerchief (or two) in my hand! For in those times Jacob is especially near!
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