Loudon 9:4

I have four favorite recording artists: Bob Dylan; Van Morrison; John Prine; and a little known folk singer named Loudon Wainwright, III. If you’ve ever seen the Sandra Bullock movie “28 days”, you’ve seen him. He played another patient in rehab with Bullock’s character.



The thing I like about these four guys is the lyrics they write. I was in the delivery room when both my sons were born. As I held each, moments after their birth, I leaned down and softly sang Dylan’s “Forever Young” to them.


I danced with my wife on our deck the night our eldest graduated high school. It was dark, the moon was full, and I held her in my arms and danced to Van Morrison’s “Tupelo Honey”. I heard John Prine sing “Angel from Montgomery” close to a thousand times. His words “if dreams were lightin, thunder was desire, this old house would have burned down a long time ago” played over and over in my head.


Loudon’s music was with me since college in 1977. I had his albums (I’m giving my age away!) and heard him sing “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road” and “Rufus is a Tit Man” (a funny ballad about his son breast feeding). No song of Loudon Wainwright’s resonated more with me than “Unhappy Anniversary”, a ballad he wrote about his divorce.


On September 4th last year the Henrico County Circuit Court entered our final decree for divorce. It was entered exactly 29 years to the day of our first date. It came only 85 days before our 28th wedding anniversary. I was devastated by the divorce. In truth, however, the reasons behind it – my wife deciding to end our relationship because of my crime; her statement “I haven’t loved you for a long time”, my awkward attempts to “make her love me” – revealed more to me about the strength (or lack thereof) of our marriage than I was ever willing to admit.


Still, with the 4th just days away, I miss her terribly, still love her, and yes, wish our marriage hadn’t failed. I’ve learned a great deal this past year about relationships.


First, more than anything, love matters most in those moments of failure, trial or loss. We all screw up; we all hurt each other, and even put ourselves ahead of others. Yes, sometime we commit crimes, or suffer from addictions. But, when you love someone, truly love them; it’s for the long haul.


Second, if you love someone, you forgive them without condition. That doesn’t mean the hurt that person caused you magically goes away. It does mean you forgive, and the bond between you remains, in spite of the hurt.


I believe in true love. I know it exists. I also know it’s not perfect. Sometimes it’s loud and you can’t stand the other person as you argue and bicker. But, you love them anyway.


There is definitely such a thing as soulmates. Without your soulmate you feel a part of you is missing.


The strange thing about these past two years is, I’ve discovered I’m a very good, strong person. Prison can’t break me. I feel better, more alive, more appreciative and empathetic for people than I ever have in my life. But, the pain I feel over the end of my marriage, the loss of my soulmate, the separation from my sons, tears at my innermost core.


My friend, Big S, and I were talking the other day. He asked me what I would do, what would I say, if she ever came for a visit or wrote me. I told him I wasn’t really sure. I’d probably just look at her blue eyes, tell her I love her and hope she’s doing well, and tell her I miss her and I’m sorry, sorry the way we ended.


People sometimes tell me I’m spending too much time grieving the loss of her. I tell them I’ve only spent 2 years locked up, but over 28 with her.


So, I run and recite Isaiah 40 over and over. And, somewhere back in the recesses of my brain I hear Loudon Wainwright sing, and I can’t help but wish things were different.


Unhappy anniversary, one year since we split
I walk and talk and get around
Lie down, stand up and sit
I eat and drink and smoke a lot
And live a little bit
Unhappy anniversary, one year since we split.


Unhappy anniversary, ten years since we met
There is no need to remind you
Or way I could forget
We fell in love and then fell out
Both times there was no net
Unhappy anniversary, ten years since we met.


Unhappy anniversary, I cannot count the days
My mind thinks back to happy times
Before you went away
I tell my mind to forget you
But my heart it disobeys
Unhappy anniversary, I cannot count the days.