Yesterday I did my laundry, folded it, and put it away. I read a couple of the articles for this week’s unit in my class. I ate leftover spaghetti for dinner and finished off a nice bottle of Spanish wine. I watched the news. And when Rita Wilde on 100.3 announced that Tom Petty had finally passed on a little before nine pm last night, I cried for ten minutes.
While I consciously cried over losing the voice and physical energy of one of my favorite musicians ever, I also cried all the tears I’d been holding in over what happened the night before in Las Vegas. People doing nothing more than enjoying music were targeted and gunned down for no discernible reason. And I’m still sitting on all the grief and anger I feel over that. (I’m not doing that rant again; it’s just too damn much right now.) I still want to cry. I still might. I slept with a teddy bear last night, which I probably won’t do again. At least not tonight.
I went to yoga class this morning. It’s a “gentle” class, so most of what we do is on the floor. I felt unbalanced and uncentered the whole time, like I was leaning just a little bit to one side or the other. I couldn’t get any equilibrium. I still feel that way. I still feel just a little bit like a hole has been torn into me. It’s going to take a long time for the space Tom left behind will be refilled.
It will, though. I will regain my psychic footing, put together more coherent thoughts, make it through one of his songs without bursting into tears. that’s how the Universe works. Nothing is ever really lost. His energy is still there. And I can still reach out and hold it in my heart.
I dug out the iPod so I could listen to Tom while I was watching the football game last night. For whatever reason, I gravitated to the softer songs. I cried then, too, but it felt like a balm on the wound. This is one of my all-time favorites, from the second Hearbreakers’ album, You’re Gonna Get It. A gentle song about moving on. Time to start doing that.