Death, finality and Christmas

Uncle Peter’s Lake Michigan Beach.

I CORNER NO market for misery. We all go through ups and downs. We all deal with death, finality.

It's a hammer blow and it leaves you reeling, especially at Christmas.

My uncle, Peter Hart, passed away Dec. 26. I will miss him and it seems surreal that he's gone. Peter died on his own terms after a long fight with cancer, with his family near, at home, in his sleep. My cousin Roland said they've been dealing with grief for a while, knowing he was terminally ill.

But death itself brings a new finality, and that's where the world gets ... murky.

I am still angry about my friend Jeff Vankanegan, who died Nov. 23. He and his wife and family and close friends went through hell in his final months because he had a rare neurological disease. I was praying hard as death closed in that he go to a better place. He did.

And now he's gone, and it's final. It's like trying to see in the dark, or swim through lava.

My brother Steve and I had a great talk with Peter on Sunday. He wanted us to know how important family was to him. After talking to him, I went into a strange daze.

In Holland, Michigan, Christmas Eve found Peter's family surrounding his bedside, knowing he'd be leaving soon. In Quincy I brought lunch to the Blessing lab for a friend, part of Peter's message to "be a light." Then I found myself in church that night strumming away and completely out of it. I think it went OK. 

Now Peter is gone, and his wife and children grieve and move on. It's hard to describe, this huge void, but we've all been there and we all have different coping mechanisms.

I'm at a loss for words. So I'm going to let a few other people explain it.

First, this comes from 11-year-old Henry Shelley, the son of my cousin Maaike, who lives in Ontario.

"Christmas is like a magnifying glass for your life. - if things are going great, the holidays are so much fun and exciting; if you're struggling with something, the holidays can make things extra hard. Everything is magnified."

Maaike and Brian are raising amazing humans.

This is from cousin Natalie Hart, daughter of Peter.

"I feel like I understand how people came up with the idea of Purgatory. Not for theological reasons, but because of how in-between things feel for us when someone we love dies. Life has changed, but it also doesn't feel like it will when the reality of loss settled in. Yesterday I kept looking for a checklist for what to do after a loved one dies and none of them seemed right. But then I realized I was just in-between."

And finally, from my aunt Willa Hart, sister of Peter, in reply to Natalie's comment.

"I understand you. You feel like you should be able to move on faster than you are. After all you had plenty of time to get used to the idea he (Peter) was going to die soon. But then it actually happens and it seems so surreal. Death is a mystery and so  hard to accept even when it's expected. The more you loved someone the harder it is. Give yourself lots and lots of time. Death stings for a long time and then very slowly your grief begins to shift. Always loved and never forgotten."

Geesh. Just give Aunt Willa a doctorate in Understand Life right now.

I am playing three shows in the next five days, so that's how I'm going to deal with it. I'm raising a glass at each one to Jeff, Peter, and all those who have departed. I'm just going to ... keep going.

That's it! 2025 - Just Keep Going.

Peace.