Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

I just woke up from a dream so intense, frightening and complicated that I don’t even know that I can explain it. I feel the need to try to write it down so I don’t forget it.

First of all it was completely multi-layered. It was happening to me in real life, but it was also a book I was reading, a film I was in and a commentary on a DVD that Jodie Foster was giving with transitional lenses on that she couldn’t stop talking about in the studio. There were parts I would read in the book and it would send shivers down my spine and then seeing it play out in real life/the movie was even scarier and at times I would beg for it to stop.

Anyhow- in the dream there was a murderer on the loose. Somehow I was accused of the murders and knew the only way to prove it wasn’t me was going to be very difficult. The victims were somehow turned to ashes and placed in boxes. I knew that somehow if you shone a certain light on the boxes they would reconstitute and the people would come back to life, but only I knew this.

At some point I put all of these boxes of ashes and evidence into these giant crates that I was having shipped to the police. At the same time they were after me so I was hoping they would get the evidence before they would catch me. I had already constituted a little boy back to life with the strange light – it was like a wand you would wave over the ashes. This was how I discovered the secret. Still – for some reason I had to freeze the boy and put him in a large box. I was then in a car, driving as fast as I could to the police station. I couldn’t see over the steering wheel or get any control over the car. I swerved off the road and had an accident. Moments like these were when I was most aware that this was also a movie I was in. I was suddenly at the premiere, watching the movie instead of being an actor in it. Even though this was something I was aware of, I was still very afraid and most of it felt like it was real life. I fear I am making no sense but I will continue…

After the car had the accident I was thrown very far from it. When I got back to the car I realized that the government had stolen the frozen boy and he was no longer in the crate I had sealed him in. I found the open crate in a tunnel under a mountain pass. I was racing to get to a courthouse where I knew my other evidence was shipped because I had the only light wand that would re-animate everyone the murderer had killed. I also knew that when the very last victim was re-animated, the murderer himself would turn to ashes. Suddenly, there was a flood. I knew this was not good.

I got to the courthouse and it was covered in water. I waded through it the best I could. Police officers found me and arrested me. I was trying to explain about the light wand but they thought I was crazy and locked me up. I was begging and pleading for them to believe me, crying hysterically. They would not. I knew that someone would figure it out. Instantly I was in a room with many people who were going through the crates I had had delivered there. There were cassette tapes and notebooks, all chronicling the murderer’s vicious crimes. I remembered this part from when I read the book and knew it was about to get scary.

I was in a panic to get to the actual boxes of ashes that were everywhere within the larger crates FULL of other things. I was pulling them out as fast as I could. I re-animated one person and everyone was stunned, but I explained there was no time for that – we needed to hurry! I told them to take the wand and keep going – I knew where the murderer was because I could read his mind and thoughts. I explained that most of the time I had to shut out his thoughts because they were so violent and evil that I could not handle it, but now I must tap in so we could find him. I advised that we were all still in great danger. We might find him but he could easily overtake us.

I went out onto the side of a desert mountain with officers in tow. There were dead, dry roots of trees everywhere that were hard to navigate. I could feel the murderer’s thoughts. He knew we were after him and he was scared. He couldn’t understand his own motivation to kill. I was also still aware that the boxes of ashes back at the courthouse were being re-animated as quickly as they could. I needed them to get to the last victim so that the murderer would turn to ashes. Suddenly he was close to me. I sensed it. The hairs on the back on my neck stood up and I was very afraid. I was begging not to see this part as I had already read the book and I was too scared to see him. There was no escaping it. There he was – looking unkempt and homeless. His eyes were dark and evil. But he was saying, over and over again “I am not bad! It is not me! I am not bad! Please! I am not bad!” I knew that even though he was desperately pleading with both the officers and himself, he could not help his instincts and would kill me if he got to me. He was pleading with me but he was also after me.

I ran. I was climbing over tree roots and going higher and higher up the mountain. He was gaining on me. I sensed the victims re-animating back at the courthouse one by one. I screamed loudly for the officers to get to us as soon as they could. I was in a panic! The murderer caught up to me and I looked in his eyes. This was it. No more running. He was crying and I felt a very intense wave of his sadness and self-hatred wash over me. I burst into tears and told him that I knew he did not want to be this way, he could not help it. He told me he still had to kill me because it was “the way it was destined.” He came closer and closer. My heart was racing. I screamed for the people to re-animate the last victim. I knew they could psychically hear me. The killer reached out for my neck and just as his fingers closed around it he turned to ashes right at my feet.

Thank goodness at this point I was simply at the premiere of the movie and the audience was clapping. The director, Jodie Foster and I all took a bow. I walked out into the lobby and saw posters everywhere for the film with me and Jodie on them. And then I woke up.

EDIT: All rights reserved on this one! © 2012 Casey Stratton

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

All my life I have had very vivid dreams and nightmares that I can generally recall in great detail. I once read that the average adult has only one nightmare per year. I am lucky to only have 5 or 6 a week! I think there must be some sort of connection between my natural inclination to be creative and my dream world. I feel that the part of my brain where the composing comes from is the same part that creates these brilliant and often bizarre dream scenarios.

Just this morning I dreamed I was on a beach somewhere with a resort hotel behind me. I was setting up gear on a large stage. I was supposed to perform a 45 minute set, but I had been asked to extend that to 75 minutes and I was nervous. Everything was going fine in sound check and people started coming out and filling up the patio tables that were spread out in front of the stage. I remember seeing turquoise ribbons floating through the air that I knew were a new kind of salt-water taffy that you could simply pull from the air and eat and it tasted like passion fruit.

It was time for the show to begin. I launched into a very intricate piano intro in G flat Major, one of my favorite keys. When I went to start the track (which was in the keyboard and not my laptop) it was at measure 37 from sound check. Oops. Everything began to unravel. Suddenly the microphone was at a strange angle behind me and I could not reach the pedal. I was twisting all around, trying to find a way to play properly. I realized the only way to sing into the mic was to have my back to the audience. This would not do. I was feeling the flop sweat that performers know well.

All of this is fairly normal and as a performer I have dreams like this often. Not sure of what to do, I suddenly realized that my phone was buzzing and I looked and had a text from my sister. I told the audience that I had a surprise for them while they waited for us to deal with the logistical issues. My sister walked through the front door with a baby whale in her arms. I said “Ladies and gentlemen, meet Whale Joy Henderson!” Everyone was oohing and aahing over the little baby whale named Whale Joy Henderson. I was too busy moving my gear around to pay much attention but I knew I wanted to see the whale later.

That dream is not even the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my dreams. Even as a child I had very vivid dreams and I can still recall many of them. I had a recurring nightmare as a child of a very scary man who looked like Gene Shalit. Let’s face it, Gene Shalit in 1981 could be scary to a child. This man was very sinister and mean. He rode on a very loud motorcycle that scared the living daylights out of me. The biggest problem was that he could become invisible so you never knew where he might be. I would be walking around my front yard and he would suddenly materialize right next to me. Sometimes I would only feel his breath on my neck and turn and he’d be right behind me, staring at me with cold, dark eyes. Frightening to me even now as I type this!

The only defense against this evil man was to pretend you were a statue. There would be many of us in my yard, all pretending to be little cherub statues so this man would think we were not real. In one incarnation of this dream I walked into my yard to see the motorcycle. I noticed that the seat was flapping up and down and knew that meant he had just gotten off of it and must be invisible somewhere near. I tried to become a statue but just as I assumed a pose, his arm grabbed mine and he materialized again. Terrifying!

So yes, that was a dream I had 31 years ago and I can still see it clear as day in my mind. The dream world is an amazing place. I both relish and fear my own. I would not trade it for anything, even if the nightmares can be just as awful as the good dreams can be good.

Remind me to tell you about the “Rosanne Cash slot machines in a casino dream” sometime…

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

The next record, my first “regular” record since Myth & Stars, is called The Calling of the Crows. I have posted some details about it before, but I now have a release date scheduled.

It will be available digitally in my Bandcamp store on Wednesday May 16, 2012.

In the coming weeks I will be getting the photos and artwork together as well as doing the things that need to be done to set it up, including the final mixdown.

There is a personal angle to this release date in that it was my cat Henry’s observed birthday. I never knew when he was actually born, but I knew it had to be about mid-May so I chose the 16th since my birthday is the 16th of October. Much of this record is about my life after losing him, but of course as always I kept things universal enough that anyone can apply it to their own life in many ways. It is always my goal to make music that people can apply to themselves while still expressing myself in a fulfilling way. I think it has succeeded in that regard and I am very excited about releasing it!

Videos may also be happening for a few songs! Speaking of: here is the home-made video I recently made for The Blackest Crow which is from the album The Parting Glass. The Parting Glass is a collection of traditional folk songs, a follow-up to 2006′s The Sun is Burning. Please consider purchasing it if you haven’t already. The support of my listeners directly affects my ability to keep making music and keep myself fed! Thanks in advance.

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

This Thursday, March 29, 2012, I will finally be doing something that people have been asking me to do for years. I will be recording a cover live on UStream. It will just be a “fly on the wall” kind of thing where I’ll let my laptop webcam stream what is going on (it will also be recorded for those who can’t catch it live.). I will not plug in the pro audio or anything, just the internal mic picking up what is going on in the room.

Over the years, many people have asked me to do a podcast or webcast showing my recording process so I am finally going to do it.

I will be recording Gotye’s Save Me. I may get some of the elements of the track ready in advance so everyone doesn’t have to sit and watch the really boring early stages. You will be able to watch me putting the track together and then layering in the background vocals, etc. I think it will be a lot of fun.

So join me on my UStream channel this Thursday at 4 PM EDT (GMT -4).

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

I have been working on a new album of traditional folk songs, a follow-up to 2006′s The Sun is Burning.  I enjoy singing traditional folk music. It is a way to pay tribute to my heritage and also to the lineage of singer-songwriters. I chose songs this time with many factors in mind. I wanted to challenge myself and also acknowledge the last year of loss and grief I have experienced. I think I succeeded on both counts. In the end I ended up singing in English, French, Scots Gaelic and Irish Gaelic. It was quite fun and daunting at the same time! I also set an abridged version of Edgar Alan Poe’s The Raven to music. Even abridged to 13 verses it comes in at 11:23!

So the record is called The Parting Glass and will be out Thursday or Friday. Here is the track listing:

Casey Stratton
The Parting Glass

1.  Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded
2.  Scarborough Fair
3.  Au Clair De La Lune
4.  Wild Mountain Thyme
5.  ‪Siúil A Rúin‬
6.  Le Temps Des Cerises
7.  Raglan Road
8. Tha Caolas Eadar Mi ‘s Iain
9.  The Blackest Crow
10. The Raven
11. The Parting Glass

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

Over the past few weeks I have written and recorded a new album. I am not exactly sure when I will release it. It could be as soon as a few weeks or as late as the early summer. Logistics and planning are still in the beginning stages. However – I wanted to share some details now so here is the tracklisting:

Casey Stratton – The Calling of the Crows

1.   The Bitter Truth
2.   When the Fates Came
3.   Ghosts in the Walls
4.   Second Life
5.   Tears That Know Your Name
6.   Sacred Tattoo
7.   Waiting
8.   The Roads of Time
9.   Wait By the Water
10. Mile Markers
11. Elegy
12. Wanderlust

I will keep everyone posted as to when it is coming out!

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

“I consider the first 20 performances just learning the piece. Think about it this way: If you think about a pianist who plays a Schubert sonata through his whole lifetime — if you listen to Rubenstein or Horowitz playing their repertoire later in their life, you understand the richness with which they play that music, and how differently they must have played it when they were younger. … I think it’s only after about 20 performances that we begin to understand what the dynamic structure of the piece is.”

I read this quote on Tumblr this morning and it made a lot of sense to me. Phillip Glass turned 75 yesterday so the internet was abuzz with links, stories and quotes. This one in particular spoke to me in a specific way.

As a songwriter who now has a home studio (I bought mine in October 2002 so it has been nearly 10 years) I tend to record songs just as they are written. In the old days I’d have to wait weeks to months to get in a studio and record songs so I tended to have played them more often before the immortal recording was executed (yes, I am aware of the paradox of my word choice there.). Yet now it is more likely that the recording you hear is the very first rendering of the new song. You could argue for or against this for artistic reasons, but for the sake of this blog I will focus solely on this being ‘the way it is’ and how a song changes once you start playing it live.

I find that when I play live shows and start adding new songs in, they begin to take on a new shape. This begins in rehearsal so I know it is not merely the adrenaline rush of an audience influencing it. This is where Mr. Glass’ quote got my attention. I knew exactly what he meant. Dynamics tend to emerge that were not my original intent, per se. It will just feel like it wants to go where it goes. And generally once I find a particular phrasing or change to the original dynamic pleasing to me, I will play the song that way from then on. I can listen to early live recordings of songs only played a few times and the dynamics will be different every time as I am finding my way into it, but later recordings will almost always have the same dynamics. This is not to say that the performance is always the same or that I never stray in any way – part of the beauty of live performing is going where the musical wind takes you – but the gist will nearly always stay the same.  The songs seem to find their groove and finally nestle into their true structures. Again – I call it “what they really want.”

This is also the key to being a good producer. The songs “know what they want” if you pay attention. Your job is to try to make that happen. Using your tools properly will get you off the ground, but your instincts will kick in and tell you what is or is not working. If it feels off to you, it will most likely feel off to others. If you are not happy with it, you should change direction. You can adjust basically any song to any style preference or aesthetic, but it will know what it wants in each genre you choose.

Back to performing your own songs though, I find that there is a very fulfilling feeling when a song finds its groove. I have a song called Hollow that has seen many incarnations, but the piano/vocal live version has taken on a life of its own over the years, and it feels like an old friend now. I don’t play it a lot, but when I do it’s because I am really wanting the comfort of the space it’s in now.

I may sound silly personifying songs, but most composers feel that our compositions are an extension of ourselves as well as some sort of communion with whatever is out there in the universe or great beyond. I don’t need it to have a name, I just know it when I feel it. And I do personify them often because they are organic things, capable of growth. They breathe and change. They are fluid. You can speed them up and slow them down, make them lighter, make them darker. A subtle shift can change the way it’s heard dramatically. I find this to be very exciting!

In the end, it is quite the intimate journey to get to know your own work. How often have writers gone back to their words and thought “Oh so THAT’S what I was really talking about!” Lyrics do that to me all the time. I’ll read them years later and the light bulb comes on. The music can and does do the same thing. Sometimes I’ll hear something in the production that is so perfectly fitting to the lyric of a song, yet was completely unintentional when I did it. Of course, you can then regale your friends with the tales of your brilliance and they’ll never know it was a complete accident. Seriously though, we know the subconscious mind works in complex ways and it is interesting to see it in action in a composition, performance or production.

Playing other people’s work takes many attempts to work out, to find the subtleties. It is no different with our own. In some ways it can be even harder to be objective. People ask me for advice about writing and performing all the time, and I almost always say the same thing. I think it applies here as well: Get out of your own way.

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

Inspiration is something that every writer in every medium knows well, and yet many of us feel we barely know it at all. Understanding it is surely an exercise in futility. There are days, months or years when it is everywhere and racing around our minds, and just as many times when it is nowhere to be found for no apparent reason. This is one reason that writing on a timetable can be hard for some people. Harnessing inspiration is a key to being a successful writer, of songs or otherwise. I’ll focus on songwriting and composing music as that is what I do.

I keep finding that the more records I make and the more songs I write, the more I push myself to find different and interesting inspiration for material. I accepted long ago that my niche is to write honestly about human relationships. Not the most groundbreaking thing to ever happen, but I am only one of a long line of musicians who follow this tradition. Again though, even when I am putting my music in that perspective I find that I need to have more subtext these days. Whether it’s to challenge myself, to expand my range or to avoid repetition is beside the point really but it is for all of those reasons. I firmly believe that a good and authentic artist will follow his or her own path, which is why the reasons don’t really matter. It is not ‘why,’ but ‘how’ that matters when creativity is concerned.

Inspiration can muck you up if you’re not careful. Too much of a good thing and you have gilded the lily. Too many ingredients can ruin the dish. Being an artist sometimes means you have a mess going on inside your mind, and some fall victim to this or use it as an excuse for getting nothing accomplished. But when being creative is your career and your living, this is not something you can really get away with most of the time. So how do you harness everything in your head? I often say that it is instinctual to me, and it is, but that doesn’t mean there is no effort involved in the organization of ideas. I put a lot of effort into that. So here’s a little insight into that process:

When I begin to think about a new project, my mind goes a million different places. Will there be an overall theme or concept? What will it sound like? What production style or production motifs am I interested in? What is “gelling” with me right now? Eventually I am going to have to choose a direction and begin writing and recording. This does not mean that the record won’t change as I go, but I try to have some sort of consistency in mind. This does NOT mean that everything will sound the same or that the average listener will even pick up on that. But for me it’s important to create some sort of structure, even if the structure is chaos.

The easiest way to explain this process is probably to talk about what I am thinking of now, for the very next record of mine. I don’t know exactly how they will figure in yet, but the inspirations that have emerged for me are crows, Erik Satie and Bertolt Brecht. As far as Brecht goes, I am focusing a lot on his idea that sometimes the protagonist will be punished for doing the right thing. That he does not punish some of his characters for their flaws but for their strengths. In life, there are storms that will roll into our lives no matter what we do. Doing the right thing (whatever that means to each of us) does not guarantee happiness, but I do believe it helps us to enjoy our happier times more. Anyway – that is going to factor in. Not sure how yet, but it’s there. It has become a focus area. And this is what I mean about harnessing inspiration. As a project or song becomes clearer, you begin to narrow your focus a bit.

Ok – crows. I watched the PBS Nature episode on crows a year or two ago, and I was fascinated. The more I learned about their intelligence, family structures and ability to form multi-step plans the more I was blown away by them. I had never really given them much thought outside of their symbolism in other artistic works. They develop complex family units, with extended family as well, and they stick together. They even have funerals for the fallen. I still don’t quite know how they will factor in, but I keep the idea in the back of my mind and trust that when the right time comes the light bulb will turn on and in it will go. The more I have, well I guess the word is obsessed, over crows the more I find little clues along the way. Small “coincidences” that lead me to believe that the idea is worth keeping on the back burner until I begin the actual writing process. I find myself listening to them in my yard and talking to them when I am outside. Call it what you will, but I enjoy it! The ones in my yard get especially chatty around 5 PM, perhaps something to do with rush hour providing more threats to them or something. Anyway – I have even recorded them for use on the record.

Where Erik Satie is concerned, I am mostly inspired by his musical structures so I know that they will inform me in the composing process. But I am also reading a biography about him and am finding that his non-conformist attitude is something I resonate with. For many years he did not get the credit he deserves for how much he pushed the envelope and informed the music of today. I think a modern-day songwriter can learn a lot from his structures and philosophies. Especially since he enjoyed the idea of simpler themes that are OK to repeat or scarcely deviate from throughout a piece. Accessible songwriters know this can be a valuable thing. Like I often say, “Sometimes if it’s pretty I just want to stick with it for 3 minutes and that’s OK.” A lot of his music is like that too and I imagine him doing the same thing; sitting at the piano, coming up with a riff and just playing it over and over. When I come up with a song idea I like, I will sometimes just sit there and play it for 30 minutes or more! Why not? It has to begin to etch itself into your consciousness, to inhabit you. That helps.

In the end, all these ideas will inform the output, but not necessarily in a heavy-handed way. By harnessing the inspirations, a current will run through the work and help to propel it forward. Of course, every artist is different so finding how to harness your own inspiration is something you must learn to do for yourself. ‘Know thyself,’ as they say. When something works, you know it works. Everyone’s process is different, but I will always recommend looking at everything, feeling everything and then reining it in to something you can work with. Is this always the case? Of course not. Sometimes you can be wildly inspired and bouncing off the walls and create something genius.

Writing and creating is an amazing experience, and we will all find ourselves on many paths. Again – do what works, but learn while it’s working.

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

“When I speak of the gifted listener, I am thinking of the non-musician primarily, of the listener who intends to retain his amateur status. It is the thought of just such a listener that excites the composer in me.” – Aaron Copland

I feel exactly this way as a composer and songwriter. This quote from one of our most accomplished American composers reminds me that the ultimate goals of the modern-day songwriter must include writing for your audience. Now, I also fully believe that the number one goal is to write for yourself. These things can co-exist because guess what: You are part of your own audience.

People sometimes ask me if I listen to my own work. Oh yes, I do! Often. I completely understand why some artists record an album and never play it again, finding the experience over and done with. I am not this way, however. I want to make the kind of music that I want to listen to. Making an album is wonderful because it is lasting. Unlike a live performance, a record is a great palette for working and re-working a song, for taking the tweezers to things and really pushing for the best possible sounds and performances. However, one must also know when to say “This is done.” Nothing will ever be perfect. Learning where to draw your own lines with imperfections is key. Let’s just take auto-tuning out of the equation since I am talking about true singer-songwriters here. Good music, real music, will contain imperfections. It is what makes us resonate with it.

I have digressed. I do think that writing for yourself is a wonderful way to make your work accessible to others. When you write about your own experiences, while taking care to be somewhat universal in your lyrical approach, listeners will gravitate to the honesty, the authenticity. This has been my experience. We have all experienced similar trials, tribulations, joys, exhilaration. They don’t call it “The Human Condition” for nothing.

When it comes to successful songwriting, as with all composing in my opinion, you must somehow find the balance between always thinking and staying out of your own way at the exact same time. When I was young, I studied and studied and then I studied some more. I learned everything I could about music and then recording. I am still learning. We must always continue to research and learn. It helps our craft. I had a good friend who was an engineer, so I asked him to teach me everything he could. I became his apprentice. I did not like walking into a recording studio and finding everyone was speaking a language I did not understand. I knew early on I wanted to produce so I needed this knowledge to communicate my ideas.

The point is: you must study long enough that music theory, lyric writing techniques and sound engineering become second nature. If those skills are in your toolbox, you can access them as you are writing and recording without even thinking about it too consciously. This opens up the creative side of your brain immensely. The amount of artistic choices you have when you have all this information is priceless.

In the end a good songwriter should know a lot about music and recording, but will hopefully be writing for the gifted listener. There is a time and a place for abstract and complicated music. Of course there is. Still – my favorite moments as a recording artist and performer come when someone tells me how a song helped them through a hard time, was a song they played at their wedding or is a song in their top 10 of all time. It is very gratifying. Inspiration should inspire others. Music should tell not only your story, but OUR story.

Originally published at The Casey Stratton Blog. You can comment here or there.

December 21, 2011

My dearest Henry,

It has been 5 months and one week since you died. It does not feel like it has been that long, and yet the days and nights have stretched out in front of me like desert highways.  I think about you all the time. Literally not one hour passes that I don’t. Now the holidays are here and with them comes the longing and pensiveness I was fully expecting. My first Christmas without you. I have had a lot of firsts since losing you, and none of them have been easy. I was always so afraid of what would happen when you died. But at the same time I only seemed to focus on the actual event and initial aftermath. I underestimated how much I would be permanently changed, and how long I would be grieving. Now I have come to understand that I will be grieving forever.

Those first few weeks were awful. It was so unbearably hot out. I kept thinking I was glad you were not here because you would have been miserable and dehydrated. My thinking could not shift out of taking care of you. I had just spent so many months being hyper-vigilant, always ready to give you what you needed. I would do it a hundred more times. A million. There was never any question that I would. But when it was “over” I realized that I was not ready for the restlessness of no longer playing that role. My grief was raw and it echoed against the walls of emptiness I was trapped inside. I was also so busy with commitments I had foolishly made thinking that since they were local and did not require traveling, they would be OK. I had so much to do, and we both know that the show has to go on. Giving bad performances would have upset me and would not have been a fitting tribute to you. So I put you into everything I did.

I played the Meijer Gardens one week after you died. I had wanted to play there for so long, but it was bittersweet. It was over 90 degrees, so the heat alone was a major obstacle. I played Landslide for you that night. I told the audience about you before I played it and I broke down for a second. I couldn’t believe I did that. I looked up at the clouds behind the grassy hill as I sang it. I still look up at the sky and think of you, out there somewhere looking over me. I see Jupiter in the night sky and I blow you a kiss every time.

It has become harder and harder for me to easily access the feeling of you when I look at the sky now. I know this is a normal part of the grieving process, but I don’t like it. I resist it. The cynic in me feels there is no point in thinking there is an afterlife any longer when I feel like that. I start to tell myself that you are simply gone. Forever. Then I panic and the agnostic in me kicks in and reassures me that I am feeling normal things, but your soul is always and forever with me in some way. It’s just that my sadness was on the surface and easy to access for so long, that as it moves toward where it needs to move I grieve for the grieving. Again…all normal.

I HATE when people tell me that you would not want me to grieve or that my sadness is somehow not appropriate to celebrate you. How could I not feel like this? We were together for so long. Every day. So many years, cities, experiences. It was like you and me against the world. You were there through all the failures and all the successes. My relationship with you held me together more than I ever knew. Thank you for that. I know it was a two-way street. I am absolutely certain of it. It is because of this that I am so lost so often. I can’t find my balance. I can’t find my footing. I want to, but it is going to take as long as it takes.

Your ashes are now in a marble box on the mantle in the bedroom. It says “Henry 1995-2011 Now and Forever.” The company I ordered it from got it wrong twice! You KNOW I was mad! I’m sure you can picture me ranting, pacing around the house.

June will still perk up if I mention you to her. I try not to do it too often as I fear she will think you are coming back. I don’t want to manipulate her to make myself feel better. She has really been quite comforting through all of this. She has become even more cuddly in your absence, and I think you would be happy about that. Everyone was somber for a few weeks. It was very quiet around here. It still feels strange, somehow wrong. You are everywhere and yet nowhere to be found.

I know I may sound really negative. I don’t mean to be. It’s not your fault. This is a natural part of life. This is what happens. I get that. My heart just aches, and my soul pleads, and I need to acknowledge it. I still relive that last day over and over again. I remember telling June “OK, this is your last chance,” and she walked right over to you and licked your head. I wanted to fall apart right then but knew I needed to stay strong until it was over. I still wonder how on Earth I possibly made it through that day. I had to be strong to do what was best. I had to be humane enough to break my own heart. As much as I hate having those memories, I am also happy to have them. I am glad I have no guilt about knowing it was the right time. I am glad I did not come home to find you gone. I probably would have worried you suffered unnecessarily. It happened as it was meant to, I know this. I will never forget one moment of that day. I play it over and over in my mind.

The seasons have changed and that has also been strange. Part of me wants to hold on to something, anything, and when time so visibly moves along I push against it. 2012 is almost here and with it I am hoping for a year of change. I will find joy. I must. I will always hold onto our bond and I will always find you in the joy. I will move on to other things and you will not be there. That will be OK. I have to allow myself to move on in the ways I can. I will never fully move on. That is a ridiculous concept, impossible.

I dream about you often. Sometimes I don’t even remember them but I know I did as sure as I know the sun rises. Some have been wonderful, some painful. I can usually distinguish between actual visits from you and my mind working through something. Sometimes I wonder if I am full of it to think that, but in the end it gives me comfort so I don’t care. The thought of that NOT being true is too scary. I also sometimes worry that I am being sad for too long. I talk about it a lot and I don’t always feel that anyone is getting it. That is only because our grief in life is so singular. It’s like we get trapped in a prison and no one else can quite get in there. Only I know the colors of that place. Only I know what’s in my heart and words can’t describe it. I can’t compare it to anything.

Speaking of words not being enough, of course I have found that the easiest way for me to feel you is through music. Not surprising. A certain chord progression can play and my heart breaks. It speaks what I cannot say. Language is nothing compared to what music can explain. Many times I find I suddenly need to play the things that remind me of you. I call it “going to the Russians.” That’s because a few weeks after you died I found myself listening to a lot of Russian composers and said “Well duh…if you want some sweeping, exposed sadness you have to go the Russians.” I laughed that it took me that long to think of it. Those guys know how to do it!

There have been a few “He was only a cat” people out there. I don’t care. You were family and I understand that. How could I be with you every day for sixteen years and not be that attached? Not how I am wired. I am happy for that. You and I knew such love, had so many moments. I have so many memories of so many places and events. I have so many memories of waking up with you sleeping next to me. One day I was missing you napping with me on the couch, with your head on my shoulder, so much that I almost grabbed the can of almonds next to me and slept with it! Don’t worry though, I didn’t. I don’t think I can be comforted by almonds.

I have so many memories of you purring without me even having to touch you, just speaking to you was enough. You were always just so content to be near me, to go where I went. That was more of a comfort than I even knew. It is unfortunate that sometimes we don’t know what we have when we have it. We think we do, but we don’t. What an amazing boy you were. There will never be another you. I was very lucky that we found one another when we did. Very lucky.

Well…I’ve gone on and on again. I just needed to write you again. It helps me process things. What a process it is. Thank you for everything you were and everything you are still. Thank you for gracing the first sixteen years of my adult life with such warmth and caring. It gives me faith.

I miss you. So much. More than I can possibly say.

Now and forever,
Daddy