I’ve been thinking about life and death a bit since finding Nelkumi-san’s blog. It struck me because one of my colleagues also recently lost his wife. He’s British. His wife was Japanese. Nelkumi-san’s writing carries her sorrow and subsequent journey like a boat on a river. Her words move me.
How much of our identity is wrapped up in the people in our lives, the ones we love? I never met any of my grandparents save one, and she passed away when I was very young. I remember her vaguely, but never saw her that much (we lived far away). My separated parents are both gone, but my relationship with them was… extremely complicated and turbulent.
The closest I got to losing someone significant was when one of my closest friends underwent heart surgery two weeks ago. He survived, thankfully, but the thought of losing him sent me to dark places. So I can’t imagine the anguish of losing someone you’re deeply in love with, especially before their time.
My response to the daily prompt is a requiem of sorts. I consider this a “semi-secret” good song simply because the artist, Wendy Matthews, was never a global mainstream star. She was well-known in Australia in the 1990s but that seems to be it. This song, “The Day You Went Away” is on her 1992 album Lily and was big Down Under but not so much in Europe or the Americas. If the views on YouTube are any indication (of the several versions, the one with the most hits has under 70,000) then maybe you’ve never heard it before. It’s a quiet song, a farewell to a loved one, hopefully temporary but likely permanent.
“Hey, there’s not a cloud in sight;
It’s as blue as your blue goodbye.
And I thought that it would rain
The day you went away.”