A Sense of Doubt blog post #3540 - 60 DAYS since Dad left and MUSIC MONDAY - "DownPressor Man"

A Sense of Doubt blog post #3540 - 60 DAYS since Dad left and MUSIC MONDAY - "DownPressor Man"

Yesterday was the 60th day since Dad died, so I set the post's publication time to the time of his death -- 13:40 EDT, though I post in PDT, so really it should be 16:40.

Also, I delayed one day to write this on a Music Monday and share a song that I was listening to the other day Sinéad O'Connor's cover of Peter Tosh's "Downpressor Man," which seemed to strike a chord with me and my emotional landscape. "Downpressor Man" is itself a revision of "Sinner Man," which Nina Simone covered. There's no real connection to losing my Dad here. The song is a political statement and has apocalyptic imagery. I just found the emotional weight of the song to be a point of connection with my experience.

Originally, I was going to post my 60th day grief round-up yesterday when I was posting also about basketball player LeBron James wanting comics, so I grabbed a picture of Dad and me at a Detroit Pistons game in 2016. I like the picture, so I kept it.

ALSO, a good time to mention (again) that my blog was selected by a scholar at Deakin University in  Australia to be part of a study in how some people cope with the grief of parents with blogging. Just like me.

So, now, SIXTY days out, I can say that reality is starting to sink in. It's really starting to hit me that Dad is gone, that both my parents are gone.

Luckily, I am married with kids and dogs and have many friends.

My community back in Michigan made such a huge difference in dealing with the early days of Dad's death.

My family is also a great comfort.

Grief takes many forms. The Five Stages made famous by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross are not linear or even experienced by every one. But they are emotional states that flow through you and fold back on themselves and repeat and bloom and decay.

For instance, ANGER.

I also have some anger at Dad for dying. He moved out of his condo and into Friendship Village sooner than I thought he would, than he thought he would. Then he died sooner. This was true of Mom, too. We thought she would live with the progressive supranuclear bulbar palsy or PSP. But she didn't. It was a little over a year from the diagnosis to her death.

Dad also declined much faster than I thought he would. I have made peace with the choice I made to stay and finish the quarter before flying to Michigan. But part of me wishes I had gone sooner.

There's enough time with those we love.

We have a difficult time believing what has happened.

I think DENIAL is a misleading stage. I have not been in denial, but there's levels. Intellectually and rationally, I understand what happened. Emotionally, I am still trying to understand it.

Maybe denial is about the grief. I think I am okay, and then suddenly, I am NOT okay.

And so we bargain, what if we had done things differently? What if Dad had not come down with Covid? What if he was pushed to walk and had not developed pneumonia? What if I had gotten there sooner? What if he had recovered?

I even thought he might graduate from hospice when there were hopeful signs or him eating or drinking and his health seemed to improve.

Those bargains.

And then, still, I just don't FEEL like he's gone, but then I do, but then I don't. It's my struggle to accept what has happened.

I keep thinking of things I want to call Dad and tell him about. And then I remember that I cannot. So, I just talk to him.

And every night, I remind Ellory, my black lab, that she loved grandpa and grandpa loved her, that we are never going to forget grandpa. That seems to help a little.

People often talk of moving on, letting go, as signs of acceptance. And, sure, like with my Mom, I stopped writing about, but I did call the blog HEY MOM for THREE YEARS. I needed three years to feel all right with NOT talking to my Mom every day.

I decided not to retitle the blog HEY DAD. Not that I do not miss talking to him, but I did that already. I am handling things differently this time.

Nevertheless, I remember a friend of mine writing on my Facebook wall in response to a post about 80 days after Mom died that it was time to stop now. Stop the "public display of grief." People think they are helping if they see that someone is not letting go, not moving on, not accepting.

But most people do not read my blog. They just see the post, the picture, the title. That's it. What that friend did not see is that I was not writing about grief every day. I was writing about my life.

MY LIFE.

And if I was writing about grief every day?

So what?

That would be what I wanted to do.

The whole blog journey really started, the original daily posts on the t-shirts blog, when I found out I had prostate cancer.

My attitude before the cancer was self-conscious. Fear of looking like a narcissist.

My attitude after learning I had cancer was lack of self-consciousness. I didn't give a FUCK what people thought about my blog. I was going to do it because I HAD FUCKING CANCER.

Same self-actualized concept applies here.

We really do not move on or let go.

We just integrate.

The grief becomes less of a sharp pain, but it's there, like the planetary core. It's there. We just find ways to live with it. I refrained from writing "learn" to live with it. I am not sure we learn it; we just live and carry the grief with us in our own way.

And that's the thing about grief, it's individual.

Everyone will grieve. All of us will lose those we love, and we will grieve them. 

I was not close with my relatives.

And though I had some friends die when I was young (one killed himself), my parents have been the greatest losses so far.

I had a friend say that losing the first parent is the hardest and the next one is easier. At first, I agreed with her. Now, I am not so sure.

This one is hard, too, but in a different way. The grief runs silent and deep, but then it sends its torpedoes up from the depth to blind-side me.

We all grieve differently. 

Some refuse the grief. They deny it. They repress it. They use a story to believe that their loved ones are in Heaven.

I am not saying that the story is not true, but I think that's a mechanism to avoid dealing with one's feelings of grief. It's a form of repression. The grief will still be there.

My grief experiences are unique but also not unique. They are unique as they are mine, and so there are elements to them that are individual and distinct. But they are not unique in that we will all experience grief.

There's no right way to grieve and no wrong way. Anything goes as one attempts to cope with a significant loss and keep living in the wake of that storm. Often foundational structures will be shattered, will crumble, and will have to be rebuilt. Some may endure, steadfast, stalwart, tenacious.

I don't have the answer.

I am still trying to figure out the questions.

Thanks for tuning in. 

I am probably back with more thoughts at 100 days December Sixth.

COUNTDOWN!!!

https://www.270towin.com/2024-countdown-clock/

007 DAYS TO THE ELECTION

Well, upon reflection, maybe the lyrics of this song and O'Connor's impassioned delivery connected to my grief that at times feels apocalyptic.

She's speaking to: "where are you gonna fucking run to?"

I always "ran" to my parents, relied on them, needed them, long into my adult years.

Now what?

sinéad o'connor - downpressor man

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Oh... along that day 

If you run to the sea 

The sea will be boiling 

If you run to the sea 

The sea will be boiling 

If you run to the sea 

The sea will be boiling 

Oh... along that day 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Oh... along that day 

If you run to the rocks 

The rocks will be melting 

If you run to the rocks 

The rocks will be melting 

If you run to the rocks 

The rocks will be melting 

Oh... along that day 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Tell me downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Oh... along that day 

And if you make your bed in hell 

I will be there 

Make your bed in hell 

I will be there 

I said, make your bed in hell 

I will be there 

Oh... along that day 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Tell me downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Oh... along that day 

If you run to the rocks 

The rocks will be melting 

If you run to the rocks 

The rocks will be melting 

If you run to the rocks 

The rocks will be melting 

Oh... along that day 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Downpressor man 

Where you gonna run to 

Oh... along that day

Where you gonna fucking run to

Downpressor man

Where you gonna fucking run to

“Downpressor Man” is a song by Peter Tosh that conveys a message about the suffering that elites who exploit others will eventually face. The song's title comes from a Rastafarian reworking of the word "oppressor". The song's moral is directed at the social inequality that remained in Jamaica after it gained independence from Great Britain in 1962. 

The song's lyrics repeatedly ask "where you gonna run to?" to remind people of their connection to the world and the suffering they will inevitably endure because of their actions. 

Here are some other details about the song:

• It was originally an African American spiritual song. 
• It moved through spiritual revivals, the US folk revival movement, and big band recordings. 
It was recorded for Tosh's 1977 album Equal Rights. 
Tosh sang lead vocals on the song, and Bunny Wailer sang background. 
An instrumental version was also released. 

THOUGHTS on lyric meaning HERE (can't copy the text)

https://guardian.ng/opinion/apocalyptic-metaphors-in-downpressor-man/

February 2, 2022

Peter Tosh and, "Downpressor Man," and the Song's Unexpected Journey.

Peter's rendition of the song has a lot in common with Nina's version, but key differences show how Peter adapted the song to say what he needed it to say. In fact, there were two versions; one recorded with the Wailers in 1971 and one recorded for Equal Rights; both featured subtle but important changes to the lyrics that made Peter's versions distinctly his.

The most compelling change to the lyrics in "Downpressor Man" is the change in perspective from first- to third-person. In earlier recordings, the song retained its more introspective take on sin, speaking about one individual's personal sins and relating them to their consequences using phrases like "I ran to the rock" and "I ran to the sea." The connection to oppression as sin is implied; the urgency of Nina's performance communicates it. In Peter's version, the statement is more direct (the term "downpressor" itself comes from a Rastafarian reworking of "oppressor"); "YOU can run to the rock," and "YOU can run to the sea." By changing the perspective of the narrator in the song, the message shifts from the personal to the communal; instead of personal sin, these sins are societal, and outside the self.

In many instances, we are asked to take songs as they are, as the expression of one songwriter to a listener. In the case of "Downpressor Man," Peter Tosh used a well-known song, popularized by musicians that were already fighting for social justice, to make a statement about the political, social, and economic injustices he saw in Jamaica. The complex history of "Sinner Man" and "Downpressor Man" doesn't undercut the message of the song at any point in its history; if anything, it makes the message more potent. Peter's adaptation shows how a cover song can reinvent the message and influence people differently from its inspiration, and it's not the only one. If there's a song with a powerful message, it's worth taking the time to understand where it came from -- especially if it's a cover.

Margaret Jones is a multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, and music teacher living in Oakland, CA. She plays guitar in several local bands including her own songwriting project M Jones and the Melee. She also holds a Ph.D. in Music History from UC Berkeley and has taught at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.

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- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 2410.28 - 10:10

- Days ago: MOM = 3405 days ago & DAD = 061days ago

posted at 1:40 p.m. today for the time of Dad's death

- New note started on 2410.28 - On 1807.06, I ceased daily transmission of my Hey Mom feature after three years of daily conversations. I post Hey Mom blog entries on special occasions. I post the days since ("Days Ago") count on my blog each day, and now I have a second count for Days since my Dad died on August 28, 2024. I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of Mom's death, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of her death and sometimes 13:40 EDT for the time of Dad's death. The blog entry numbering in the title has changed to reflect total Sense of Doubt posts since I began the blog on 0705.04, which include Hey Mom posts, Daily Bowie posts, and Sense of Doubt posts. Hey Mom posts will still be numbered sequentially. New Hey Mom posts will use the same format as all the other Hey Mom posts; all other posts will feature this format seen here.