Fourth of July: A Song About Grief Integration
This recent holiday, I decided to listen to Fourth-themed songs on my way across town to see some friends. But if I'm honest with myself, I just wanted an excuse to listen to the song 'Fourth of July' by Shooter Jennings. It had been bouncing around my head since waking up.
It's upbeat and anthemic in a personal way. It's the kinda song that feels good while driving, which is very much a visual part of the song itself. But as I listened this day, the lyrics hit me in a deeper way. I slipped deeper, past the great hook and feeling of freedom - and I got emotional.
This song is about grief.
Even more specifically, a song about the integration of grief.
The lyrics vacillate between the present and the past, with the chorus specifically being based on the feeling of memory.
Chorus:
You were pretty as can be, sitting in the front seat
Looking at me, telling me you love me, and you're happy to be
With me on the 4th of July
We sang Stranglehold to the stereo
Couldn't take no more of that rock n roll
So we put on a little George Jones and just sang along
I often remind my clients that grief is omnipresent.
Our lives are hourglasses in a room full of hourglasses. Time is always passing, and that in itself is worthy of grief. For there are always things that are coming to an end. There are loved ones, self-identities, and phases of life beginning and ending. Which isn't to say that we should spend our lives in a state of grief, it simply means we need to make some room for it.
Acknowledge it, feel it... integrate it.
Back to the chorus of this particular song.
I smiled as the tears came. I remembered being in love - and I remember feeling loved.
Those times when someone sat next to me, a partner, fellow outlaw... someone that understood me for a time and made me feel seen. There was hope, a feeling of expansiveness, and a sense of invulnerability that only came with the feeling of our combined powers.
I remembered some of the select few people that occupied that space for me, physically and emotionally.
I missed them.
I was grateful for them.
And that is integration of grief.