Do Something that Feels Good

When the weight of my loss felt a little heavier than usual this past week, a good friend shoved back into the world again. Getting last minute tickets to a show was exactly what I needed even if I fought the idea. Lake Street Dive, a band I had always wanted to see live, was playing Friday night. My first reaction was all about my isolation. Alone in my late husband’s town seemingly far away from everything, no one to go with me, what about the kids and dogs. Poor me.

I held all this back while I was texting with my friend, but he cut right to the chase and told me to connect up with some mutual friends who where going to the show. Within an hour, I had a plan and floor tickets.

Even just a few years ago, I don’t think I would have the courage to do something like this. Pulling into downtown St. Paul, everyone was out enjoying the hot summer night. I felt light, eager, and a little proud of myself as I passed people lounging in outdoor patios along St. Peter Street. I sometimes forget about this cloud of grief that I drag around with me all the time. Walking in the setting sun that night, I let it fall away for a while.

 After catching up with my friends, the hot summer air and the opening band’s music met us at the Palace Theatre entrance. People milled around in happy groups, warmly lit by lights surrounding the theater marquee. I always love the vibe of a live music crowd. And Lake Street Dive is such an upbeat beat band that they draw similar people from all walks of life. 

I shook off some stress and remnants of my self-pity as we found a great spot on the floor. Everyone felt the anticipation as the stage crew finished adjustments for the main band. I forgot what you can pull from a crowd. I didn’t know how much I needed to feel that rush until the energy seeped into my skin. 

We all roared in approval as the lights dropped and the band began. A thump of the drums, rhythmic flurry from the keyboard, and a trumpet cut through the crowd. Then a full-size bass boomed through my body as Rachel Price stepped up to her mic. Her strong, jazzy voice shot through the whole place. I’m pretty sure everyone was up on their feet and stayed there all night. I smiled the whole time as I let the music take me over. It was perfect.

That night reminded me I need to do things that just make me feel good. Losing Gage divided my life in two parts; before and after his death. I’m still trying to figure out the after part, because I always feel the impact of his absence. It’s tricky navigating each day sometimes.

At the concert, I felt a little twinge with all the couples enjoying the night around me. I couldn’t help it. It’s as if the widow in me chanced a look around the packed room and had to whisper about her pain in my ear. I’m learning to let her come and go. Fighting her never works. So instead, I took her out on the town. Pretty sure she had a blast.