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“Don’t you see? I need you, Rock.”

Posted by xJane on June 13th, 2008 at 8:27 pm · 12 Comments

So…my father is dying (stop me if you’ve heard this one). And some days this cripples me to the point where I can’t get out of bed. But most days, I go to the movies, I surf the ‘net, I hang out with friends, and just generally live my life. Like normal. And it is normal, right? Death is normal. It’s painful, wrenching, and heartbreaking. But it’s normal.

I’m in the process of preparing to move, anticipating my first semester of Law School (shit! really? I am so unprepared…!), applying for loans, and quitting my job. I’ve got a bit on my plate. But, my father is dying.

I did go up to visit recently, and should again, soon. But part of me can’t even think of that until I’m at least partially moved (like, say, packed). And Father’s Day is coming up. So I’m starting to feel like I’m ignoring a very big elephant in my life (my life is a room in this metaphor). I was good with it for a bit…but then one of my favorite songs came on, Sinnerman by Nina Simone: [wp_youtube]mSasf8GBfV4[/wp_youtube]

Especially this part:

(Well I run to the rock:
“Please hide me!”
I run to the rock
[...]

But the rock cried out:
“I can’t hide you!”
The rock cried out
[...])

I said, “Rock! What’s the matter with you, Rock?
Don’t you see I need you, Rock?
Don’t let me down!”
All on that day.

Something inside me twisted when I heard that (again) today. I feel like I’m hiding and that my rock just refused to hide me any more. What’s the matter with you, Rock? Don’t you see that I need you, Rock? I guess I’ll have to keep running.

Tags: Death · Depression · Personal · Video

12 responses so far ↓

  • 1 Bored in Vernal // Jun 14, 2008 at 8:41 am

    hugs.

  • 2 Sean // Jun 14, 2008 at 2:02 pm

    The video isn’t loading for me, but “Sinnerman” is an amazing, beautiful song. You have my deep sympathy–even though both of my parents are enjoying good health, I am terrified at the thought of their eventual mortality. My mother’s mother has been flirting with Stage 5 kidney failure for the past year or so, and it has really been hard on my mom to have to see her and care for her in such a condition. My thoughts, for what it’s worth, are with you.

    (Btw, if anyone else has trouble with the video, I found it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSasf8GBfV4)

  • 3 xJane // Jun 14, 2008 at 3:47 pm

    thank you, BiV :)

    & thank you, Sean: it should be fixed.

  • 4 Linda // Jun 15, 2008 at 5:50 am

    I think I will become a regular visitor to your blog site.

  • 5 xJane // Jun 16, 2008 at 7:10 am

    Linda: welcome…although this particular post may not be exemplary…

  • 6 xJane abroad // Jun 16, 2008 at 12:47 pm

    more death

  • 7 Quin // Jun 17, 2008 at 10:45 am

    My best friend’s dad just got news that he probably won’t be around in a few months. Maybe weeks. It’s so agonizing. Would you rather have the chance to know, or would you rather just be snatched away?

  • 8 xJane // Jun 17, 2008 at 5:08 pm

    selfishly, if it were my death, I kinda think I’d like to know. but a loved one: snatched. Every day it’s like he’s dying again…and he’s still alive! (which I don’t mean to sound like “I wish he’d die already” but more “I don’t know how much more I can deal with”)

  • 9 JohnR // Jun 17, 2008 at 8:50 pm

    With loved ones, I’m not sure which I’d prefer (for my own, selfish sake)–I’ve experienced both having someone snatched (no closure) and the absolute agony of watching someone I love slowly and painfully waste away. That said, I would not wish a long, excruciating death on anyone.

  • 10 wren // Jun 21, 2008 at 7:16 am

    Sending positive vibes your way, xjane.

    My grandmother got a few months’ notice. While those were difficult times, she was elated (when not in pain) because she was 88 and had been widowed for 9 years and while she was always content, she was ready to go and glad for the chance to plan her funeral in a very real way, not the hazy “here’s what I want someday” way people do for wills and such.

    The time spent with her in that brief period was filled with rich with lessons and powerful emotions. While I wouldn’t wish the pain on anyone, I’m glad she – and we – knew her mortal life was drawing to a close.

    My house of faith came crashing down later that year. That was a bit rough because I no longer could feel confident that she was living on eternally. That, I suppose, is making me appreciate this life all the more.

    xJane, what are your feelings on life beyond this one? How does that inform your relationship with your father?

  • 11 xJane // Jun 21, 2008 at 8:39 pm

    wren: I believe that my dad’s body will rot in the ground (unless it’s embalmed, in which case it’ll rot and infect the ground), decompose, and become food for the next cycle. I similarly believe (start at the 5th paragraph) that his soul will be dumped back into the place all our souls came from, to be put back into people as is necessary.

    This largely informs my disgust at his politicizing of his illness to deny rights to other people. He is not in pain, although he may soon need mechanical help to breathe, and his choices about his life are his own to make (hopefully with input from his wife). But I cannot forgive that he is using his “position” to fight against laws that give people in excruciating pain to end this cycle and start the next. Most people would extend mercy to dogs and horses in pain who cannot be cured. I don’t understand the need to deny it to humans.

  • 12 Hanna // Aug 10, 2010 at 8:03 am

    I know it’s too late to comment on this thread, but your story is similar to mine. I’m still running and want to find a place to hide. I like that song a lot and the moment I read your thread I wanted to stop and just face the things I have been hiding and running from so long. I hope. I know all I care about is finding a piece of mind for me and then I could be stronger and more powerful, u know?! Well, best wishes to you. Sorry about your father.

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