I Shall Be Released

A great many tunes go through my mind whenever I run. It’s like I have an iPod in my head sometimes. Early on in here I bought a portable CD player/radio and a handful of CD’s. I bought music I know and love: Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Allman Brothers, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, to name a few.



Music, songs I know, helps get me through. That is, until this past week. I noticed that all the new shows were using songs that mean something to me, songs that remind me of what I’ve lost.


This past week “Parenthood” used a classic Dylan song, “Forever Young” in an episode. I sang that song to both my sons’ moments after they were born. It resonated with me as my prayer for them.


“May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the sun,
And climb on every rung
May you stay Forever Young.”


That song plays on in my head each day as I run the track. Only now it is from a father who is separated, alienated from his sons. I hear that song and my heart breaks a little more each day.


A new show, “Raising Hope” was on the other night. A baby refused to stop crying. A woman came in and began quietly singing Loggins and Messina’s “Danny’s Song”, a beautiful ballad about a father seeing his first born and telling his wife even though they have little, he is fulfilled.


“Even though we ain’t got money
I’m so in love with you honey
Everything will bring a chain of love.
In the morning when I rise
Sweet tears of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything’s gonna be alright.”


I choked up. I used to hear that song all the time when I held my kids, when I watched my wife sleep. Now, the loss of her, the emptiness, the loneliness weighs me down. I feel as if in mourning. I’m not complete without them.


My folks come monthly for a visit. They mean well, yet they don’t realize (or don’t want to realize) the pain they cause me with each conversation reminding me of what I lost. “She is shopping with. . .” “The kids are doing . . .” I go a week, maybe two, thinking the pain, the sorrow, the emptiness, is lessening, then the visit and the songs begin again.


I was down this afternoon after the visit. Big S went outside with me. I told him how I feared I’d never get over the loss of my wife, how I still loved her even though I knew I’d never see her again. I told him how much I missed my sons; “how much more”, I asked him, “can I lose”? We walked around the track. His words helped. I am blessed with a friend like him, part son, part best friend.


I began running sprints and the song came to me. Dylan and the Band:


“They say every man needs protection
They say even man must fall
But I swear I see my reflection
Somewhere so high above the wall.
I see my life come shinin’
From the west down to the east
Any day now, any day now
I shall be released.”


There are lonely, difficult days in here. Sometime I have to remind myself God’s way isn’t like my way. Sometime I have to expect that my hardship, my struggle – as difficult as it feels – is still part of His promise to me.


I hate this place. I hate the damage I’ve done to the three people I love the most. But, everyday gives me hope. I am reminded of Simon & Garfunkel’s “Bridge over Trouble Water”:


“When you’re weary
Feelin small
When tears are in you eyes
I will dry them all
I’m on your side
When times are hard
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will lay you down.”


Days in here come and go, but my hope remains.