As I write this, I’m sitting in our truck with Bradley (our dog) in an overflow parking lot next to Westchester Airport. Beth is in the terminal waiting to see if her 5:30pm flight will take off at 6:15pm or at all. Such is air travel these days
There’s rain on the windshield and that fits my mood – sad. I’m sad because Beth is leaving for a weekend, because Bradley needs an operation on Tuesday and just because the world feels kind’ve grey these days. You’ve heard it from me before!
Track 4 on the album is “Rain in the Morning.” It’s one of my favorites because it’s me – a 6’3”, 255 pound, healthy, white, happily married, American man – able to finally speak his feelings without shame. Yeah, I get sad. A lot.
When I was a boy, a rainy day was enough to slow me down long enough to feel something. I didn’t know it then, but I was aching to express sadness over the difficulties of growing up. Things like losing friends or not being a good baseball player were hard, but the message of “grin and bear it” was the dominant one for boys.
So, now a frown appears and perhaps a single tear runs down my face when I give myself permission to ache. It’s not easy, but Rain in the Morning helps.
As I scan the lyrics, I see an unintended but clear message that the world needs to mourn, too. It might be for the climate, our government, for enslaved people, women or for the millions of lives affected by COVID-19 or the war in Ukraine.
We may be accustomed to being angry or worried, but can we allow ourselves to grieve? I think it’s okay to acknowledge what we’ve all lost, to breathe-in the deep sadness that exists in our brothers and sisters around the world or in the home next door. In so doing, we become connected again.