Cuba, March 2003. Photo by Lauren Chapin
December is the year’s darkest month. This year’s felt like the darkest December ever, the end of a year filled with sadness and dread.
This was a year of sudden disappearances. The economy fell off a cliff and took with it friends and colleagues I’d worked with for 18 years. Here one day, gone the next. Then a few weeks ago, Lauren, my wife and the mother of my two teenage daughters, collapsed and died. Here one morning, gone forever.
My family has absorbed its share of death, some of it sudden, some of it expected. It goes back four generations. My father’s mother died at 31, three months after he was born, leaving him, his brother and sister in the hands of a grieving father and the aunts who would raise them. Two decades later, his sister became a widow and the single mother of three boys younger than 5 years old when her husband was killed in a car accident.
My father was 55 in December 1985 when,a month after he retired,his doctor told him he had terminal lung cancer. My mother was with him a year later when he died in Albany, N.Y. That night, his eight children were in St. Louis, at the rehearsal dinner for my sister, Sheila, who got married the next day. Four days, later we attended his funeral in Vermont.
Sheila died in July 2003, six months after she was told she had pancreatic cancer. She was 39 and the mother of 6-year-old twins. Her children were in Kansas City in December for Lauren’s funeral/service. The twins turned 12 in September and they already have absorbed more grief than some people four times their age. In his sympathy card, my nephew wrote all too soberly: “Life begins, life ends, life goes on.”
That’s the thing about death -– even the most unexpected and unthinkable death: It doesn’t stop life from going on. The world turns, children must eat, bills need to be paid, clothes need to be laundered, plants need to be watered and the dog needs to be taken outside three times a day.
Grief can be a mammoth burden — a flood of shock, emptiness, sadness, anger and fear. But you either drowned in it or you fight and kick and flail to keep your head above the water so you can get to the other side, so you can live to see another day.
So less than four weeks after Lauren died, her daughters get ready to go back to school and I to go back to work and we all prepare to get on with lives that will never be the same.
We have kept our heads above the water but only because we have been blessed with family and dear friends who share our shock and despair and who have been extraordinarily generous with their time and their favors: my many friends and colleagues at The Star; the chefs and restaurateurs all over this town; the entire local music community (with special thanks to Pete Dulin, Pam Taylor and Erin McGrane); my fantasy football league buddies, who hired the housecleaner; and the regular readers of The Star and this blog, who expressed so much genuine sympathy. We read everything -- every note, every e-mail, every post, every card –- and each one helped. For all that, we are deeply grateful.
I try to keep what’s posted here related to music, and music is relevant here. It is pulling us through this. I have fixated on several songs. One of those is “Waitin’ On A Sunny Day,” which we played at the end of Lauren’s celebration of life a couple of weeks ago. It was one of her favorite Springsteen songs.
As it played, the afternoon light coming through the stained-glass windows inside the chapel got brighter, as if the clouds had parted and made way for the sun. (“Nice special effects,” a friend said later.) I don’t know about divine signs and symbols from above or the other side, but I’ll take that moment for what it’s worth: Life is already going on, and though there will be more grey days to get through, in the end, love endures, grief subsides and everything will be OK.
| Timothy Finn, The Star
Bless you Tim.
We are glad, no WE ARE DELIGHTED to hear from you, Happy New Year.
keep on keeping on,
and do the best you can, and in your case it is usually GREATNESS
Posted by: what up | January 01, 2009 at 11:38 AM
PS
we love that picture taken by Lauren,,,so sunny,,,so happy,,,,a good drink,,,,sand,, sun ...OH BOY!!!, gives us hope that 2009 can be a better year than 2008.
thx...you made us smile today, this year:)
Posted by: what up | January 01, 2009 at 11:47 AM
God Bless you and your daughters Tim.
We are indeed glad to hear from you. We have all missed you and you should know that we all NEED you. Keep up the good work and we'll continue to be here for you in any way. Don't be afraid to ask for anything.
Happy New Year
Posted by: Joe | January 01, 2009 at 11:55 AM
We are thankful to have you at The Star, Tim. Your opinions and views are always food for thought and your many readers truly appreciate what you do. I wish you a New Year filled with happiness, joy, and more great music. Lord knows, you deserve it.
Posted by: Keith in KC | January 01, 2009 at 12:01 PM
This was a beautiful post, thanks for sharing it.
Posted by: DLC | January 01, 2009 at 12:09 PM
Lovely post, Mr. Finn. I admire your perspective and perseverance. The folks we've loved and lost wouldn't want us to live at anything but our best. I'm glad to see that you're ready and able to do that.
Posted by: Pops | January 01, 2009 at 04:49 PM
I NOMINATE THIS FOR POST OF THE YEAR!!!!!!1
Posted by: gonzo | January 01, 2009 at 05:01 PM
Nice post, Tim. Good to have you back.
Posted by: Bob | January 01, 2009 at 05:12 PM
God bless you and your family!!
Posted by: Mike | January 01, 2009 at 05:53 PM
TIM,
WORDS CANNOT RELAY HOW SORRY I AM FOR YOUR AND FRIENDS AND FAMILY.
LARRY LUPER
Posted by: Larry Luper | January 01, 2009 at 06:28 PM
nice to see you back tim.
good luck with the celine dion show. should be a good one to work out any kinks.
-chris
Posted by: concert chris | January 01, 2009 at 08:11 PM
I noticed the sun at the end of the celebration service as well and meant to say that since the forecast was for cloudy skies all day, I thought the appearance of sunshine was not a coincidence. I still don't think it was.
Strength and peace to you and yours, brother.
Posted by: michael | January 01, 2009 at 08:20 PM
There are no words more vivid or eloquent than yours.
Posted by: Tracey | January 01, 2009 at 09:01 PM
Welcome back, Tim!
Your friends did a good job taking care of things while you were gone, but it just wasn't the same without ya.
Happy Promising New Year to you and your girls.
Music is the medicine...
Posted by: Penny | January 01, 2009 at 09:08 PM
Tim,
Thank you for opening your heart to us in this direct and honest way. As I had previously told you, I did not know Lauren at all, but she was clearly an amazing woman--and one lucky to have been married to you. May 2009 bring many examples of "Joy Kills Sorrow" into your life.
Bob McWilliams
Kansas Public Radio
Posted by: Bob McWilliams | January 01, 2009 at 09:49 PM
Wonderful post sir. That quote from your 12-year-old nephew is heart-breaking.
Posted by: Owen | January 01, 2009 at 09:49 PM
What a lovely and beautiful post...truly, it brought tears to my eyes. You and your family have been in my thoughts so many times over the past few weeks. It is so nice to have you back and I thank you for sharing such heartfelt writing with us.
Posted by: carol | January 01, 2009 at 10:40 PM
Hey Tim,
I am so pleased to see this letter. For most people who endure such a tragedy, the impulse is to shut down and revert to a fetal position. When my parents died suddenly I was furious; looking for someone to blame (God being the likely culprit). It took 20 years to come to the understanding that sometimes bad things happen to good people.
The celebration of Lauren's life was intensely emotional (and at times amusing), but truly cathartic. It has been quite amazing to see the three of you fighting the impulse to shut down and choosing to persevere. Family and friends coming to your aid was (and is) wonderful, but you should understand how much the three of you, through your strength and courage, have helped to heal so many others around you. I thank you for that.
Posted by: Rick Godfrey | January 02, 2009 at 07:37 AM
Thanks for such a courageous and inspiring post.
"I will get by, I will survive."
Touch of Grey
Grateful Dead
Posted by: Mike A | January 02, 2009 at 08:37 AM
Welcome back Tim. All the best to you and the girls in 2009.
Posted by: Scorp | January 02, 2009 at 08:52 AM
What a beautiful post and what an amazing tribute to your wife, children and extended family.
Thanks for sharing and here's to a happy 2009.
Posted by: Doug | January 02, 2009 at 09:21 AM
"Here comes the sun."
Posted by: Brian McTavish | January 02, 2009 at 10:24 AM
Welcome back Tim.
Posted by: Charley. | January 02, 2009 at 10:40 AM
Tim,
I lost a 13-year-old young lady, who was my world in 2008, your words help. God Bless you and your family.
Posted by: JT | January 02, 2009 at 11:53 AM
Welcome back Tim, it's nice to have you back!
All the best in 2009, best wishes to you and your family!
Posted by: Jason | January 02, 2009 at 12:34 PM
Welcome back, man.
I can't imagine where you are at and how far you have to go with your daughters and with yourself, but I'm glad you're back here with us.
Stay courageous.
Posted by: greenman | January 02, 2009 at 01:07 PM
I believe that a song belongs to the heart it touches. That is the "gift" of music. I also believe when words come from the tender heart in true Spirit that they too are a gift to those who eyes have read them. Thank you for your gift Tim.
Posted by: Dawn Rubin | January 02, 2009 at 05:28 PM
hey, Tim
good, moving post. you three are so strong, to get through this. Love to you all.
K-God.
Posted by: Katrina Godfrey | January 02, 2009 at 11:57 PM
Thank you for sharing. It will help many of us appreciate who and what we have more. I pray for your family's strength.
Posted by: Shannon Christensen - Cameron, Missouri | January 03, 2009 at 11:12 AM
Thank you for this, Tim. My prayers remain with you, your girls, and your entire family.
Posted by: Elliot | January 03, 2009 at 12:12 PM
hold on to the love, the good memories, and the laughter. peace be to you all.
Posted by: lauragayle | January 03, 2009 at 06:07 PM
Tim,
Glad you are back. Take it one day at a time. We all grieve with you.
Posted by: Nicky | January 04, 2009 at 01:07 PM
I enjoyed reading this post and all the work you've shared. Wishing only the best for you and yours this year.
Posted by: shawn | January 04, 2009 at 01:12 PM
I hadnt planned on crying this morning, your post was so moving.Glad your back as I missed your writing. Good energy to you Mr Finn and know your friends love you...
Posted by: jeff fortier | January 04, 2009 at 01:17 PM
God bless you and your family....
Posted by: Bob Garrett | January 04, 2009 at 03:21 PM
I shall miss Lauren as a friend and cuisine adviser. We followed up on many restaurant recommendations.
I loved seeing her taking photos at the Women's Council luncheon at UMKC and in many roles at William Jewell.
The tributes in the Star were wonderful! What a woman!
Posted by: Neita Geilker | January 05, 2009 at 09:46 AM
Welcome back. You've got a helluva lot of fans and friends in the music-loving community. We've been looking forward to your return.
My father died at 51 in Oct 1982. I was 20 and we had friends and relatives who hosted us for Thanksgiving and Christmas that year; both out of state. The burden was shared by many and helped us work through the grieving process.
The Star's reprints of Lauren's stories were wonderful.
Peace to you and the girls.
Posted by: JumpinJack19 | January 05, 2009 at 10:45 AM
Tim,
That was a wonderful column. My thoughts are with you and your family in this new year.
Posted by: Mike Rice | January 05, 2009 at 11:29 AM
Tim,
Keep fighting, keep kicking, keep treading water... My thoughts and prayers are with you and your daughters.
Posted by: BDC | January 05, 2009 at 12:47 PM
December is the darkest month. But...when the solstice hits, we pick up a minute of light each day as we move towards that rebirth of spring. Sure, the planetary movements are no consolation for a grieving family, but knowing the sun is coming back is the hope that gets us out of bed on those frigid jan. and feb. mornings. Take care Tim. Looking forward to a year of concert reviews, better or worse.
Posted by: lucas | January 05, 2009 at 01:07 PM
Thank you for this, Tim. Beautiful.
Danny
Posted by: danny alexander | January 05, 2009 at 02:51 PM
Thank you for your wonderful writing. I am happy that you are back, and will continue to keep your family in our prayers.
Hope to see you at a show again soon.
Posted by: TK | January 05, 2009 at 04:18 PM
Tim, You are heroic. As someone who just "celebrated" the anniverary of my daughter's death from cancer at age 21, I know pretty much all of which you speak and am yet in awe of how calmly and compassionately you are able to write.
May there be no further long waits between sunny days for you.
Dave Marsh
Posted by: Dave Marsh | January 05, 2009 at 05:58 PM
Thinking about you, friend, and looking forward to seeing you on the road ahead.
Posted by: Pete Dulin | January 05, 2009 at 07:07 PM
It is said that God takes away our loved ones... but not so. Only their future. Anytime you want Lauren back, just close your eyes and listen. You'll see her smile, you'll hear her voice and, while it reminds you of your loss, she never really left.
Posted by: DKC | January 05, 2009 at 08:51 PM
Thank you for sharing your heart.. You words are impacting someone you don't even know. I knew Lauren through a coffeeshop I worked at and she was a great woman! God be near you!
Posted by: Lauren | January 06, 2009 at 08:02 AM
As one of Tim's out-of-town sisters, I can't begin to express the gratitude I feel to all of the friends (those known and unknnown) for the support and caring shown to Tim, Brenna and Maren. It helps to know that the strength and love from all of you will comfort and guide them through many difficult days ahead.
It took me a couple of days to brace myself to read Tim's post and all of your comments. My sadness has been tempered by the wonderful sentiments expressed by all of you for our loss.
God bless you all - and Tim - you never fail to amaze me with your talent to say what we all feel. Love to you, Brenna and Maren
Posted by: Kathleen Scalfani | January 06, 2009 at 09:26 AM
We've missed you. Very moving piece, TF. God bless you and your family...we wish you all the best. And to tie in some music, Springsteen has been a constant beacon of hope and strength in my life as well.
Posted by: pellboy | January 07, 2009 at 11:58 AM
Glad to see you back at work Tim, and in wonderful voice.
Keeping you and the girls in our thoughts.
Posted by: Linda | January 07, 2009 at 04:11 PM
Glad to have you back. Continue to delve into the personal anytime. It's good to hear how you're doing. Take care of you and your girls.
Posted by: MAB | January 08, 2009 at 08:11 AM