OldGuy’s grieving playlist

Do we fool ourselves when thinking we can visualize our own worst case scenarios? Later we discover that reality hits differently than we expected, with a different timeline; we may find ourselves with dizzying events and unforeseen reactions, as an old guy might find in grief.

Cancer doctors have that dreaded privilege of witnessing various aspects of grief. We knew that grieving can start at diagnosis. The discussions demand expertise, but the skill is one that most wanted avoiding, a skill for which most want to evade a reputation for excellence.  

With a great team, one can acknowledge self-evident limitations; maybe a good reputation can be had by delegating more intimate discussions to better colleagues in nursing, child life, social work or psychology.

Effective helping is so individualistic, the issues hard to define and act upon; there is never a script. Growing up in the Kubler-Ross era, we learned a jargon of grief and had some concepts, but like most things, they didn’t always apply. That knowledge base and experience are hard to gauge when a personal need arises.

I can hear myself saying softly:  “Grieving is a lifelong process.” No one taught me to say that.  I don’t know if saying that was in any way helpful, reassuring somehow, an expectation guideline or statistically verifiable, or if I just said it to make myself feel better by saying something, anything.  But I also thought that for many, it was true. I still do.

Grieving has been and can be studied, as it should be, as an intellectual, human behavioral and social service endeavor.  But investigators shouldn’t be surprised at resistance: “Don’t you try to imply something or tell me how to grieve, you!”

So this posting is not about how to grieve, if or when the situation occurs or has occurred, even with the broadest definition of grief.  

I’m just going to share a personal playlist; I’m not saying that it’s therapeutic.  I’m not a musician, just not afraid to admit that sometimes an aural input can lead to a neural resonance that results in lacrimal production… yeah, hearing certain music can make the tears drip a bit.  

The highlighted music titles should be clickable YouTube video links.  The comments are not sophisticated, just personal annotations:

Somewhere Only We Know: Lily Allen cover (2014), surprisingly intimate despite being on live French TV, originally Keane (2004).

Iris: Christine Noel’s beautiful stripped down vocal cover (2022) of the Goo Goo Dolls classic (1998); that brilliant live performance in their hometown Buffalo, (2004) in the pouring rain…instant flood…

Black Hole Sun: Norah Jones’ (2017) live rendition /tribute to Chris Cornell, the Seattle Soundgarden/Audioslave vocalist, just the week after his last performance in the same venue. Maybe more quietly raw, authentic, and soulfully unpolished compared to other versions.

What Was I Made For?: Official video, Billie Eilish (2023)… my wife did have a Barbie clothes box just like Billie’s. That softly haunting voice, and her lyrics…

Windmills of Your Mind: Sting’s cover (1999), lyrics that are artfully obscure, soundtrack for that year’s “Thomas Crown Affair”; the movie doesn’t really pertain.

In My Life Beatles: (1962-66, remastered 2009) my wife’s favorite band and her favorite song of theirs…

Fell on Black Days: (1994) Chris Cornell. Soundgarden. Lyrics. Studio video.

Hiromi playing “Blackbird”: live, Montreal (2023), serious yet dazzlingly light

In Your Eyes Peter Gabriel’s live show in Italy (1993), 10 minute version.  Audience held up lighters, not many cellphones then. One might interpret the dancing as frenetic pathos rather than ironic bathos.

Round Midnight : Linda Ronstadt’s cover (2009 release), old school with orchestra, astonishingly clear, moving vocal and lyrics.

The Very of Thought of You: (2015) Tony Bennet’s duet with Ana Carolina: her sultry luscious Brazilian Portuguese vocal is indescribable.

“On the Nature of Daylight“: NPR Tiny Desk video (2000), composer Max Richter on keyboard but the sonority of the strings is breath-stealing, especially when the violins enter (1:51 and 3:39; the first 7 minutes of the video; from the score of the movie “Arrival.”) Isabel Hagen is the violist here; amazingly she does stand-up comedy which can be found elsewhere. Comic relief might be needed after drying the eyes.

Basket Case: PMJ/Tatum Langley’s cover (2023) of Green Day’s classic about mental health, with a cheerful vibe and a display of unexpected talents, maybe an antidote to this playlist, a demonstration of the unpredictable range and spectrum of appreciable feelings in this kind of human experience.