When it rains…

I’m done with the month of February, literally and figuratively.
I’ve always been suspicious of that month. It has an awkward number of days (don’t get me started with the leap year fiasco), it’s cold, Valentine’s Day has troubled me since kindergarten (why on earth was I socially pushed into giving random people cards and candy?), and for the past five years the people in my life who have passed away did so in that month.
My wife-to-be’s mother passed away last month. It was a hard experience to see her go through, and for me as well. Her mother was the person who inspired me to go to college (probably not knowing her daughter would be marrying a man entering the strange world of journalism).
When I came home after her funeral, not even one hour in the door of my apartment, I got word my grandfather was about to pass away.
Two days later, he did.
Two funerals in two weeks was a taxing experience.
Then I realized that it was five years ago, around the same time of the same month my best friend died, which was the final push into hating that month. I can’t recall many good times over the years that February has brought me. Just goofy cards from strangers and people dying.
Also, I don’t grieve publicly. I waited until I got home after my grandfather’s funeral and played depressing music. That’s how I mourn.
I have three levels of mourning, and it can be judged by the music to which I listen.
A good cry level would be listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival. That band seemed to be experts on making depressing music.
They also have a lot of songs about rain, which I found odd.
The next level of mourning and depression is oddly the upbeat music of The Beatles.
I don’t know why, but when I listen to “Rubber Soul,” my emotions go a little crazy and dark.
But the “uh oh!” level, where my girlfriend knows not to talk to me is when Pink Floyd starts playing.
When Pink Floyd is on, that’s when I get reflective and overthink all that’s been going on. One listen to “The Wall” will through me through all levels of mourning in a single sitting.
I don’t know why I associate music with my mourning, but for some reason it works well for me. I have always used music as a tool for helping me through emotionally trying times.
It also didn’t help that, after all that, I got really sick. For the last two weeks, I’ve been coughing up a storm, my nose runs like a broken pipe and my head felt like someone was constantly squeezing it.
My car also got messed up during that month. That was a nice frosting on top of a cake made out of awful.
So, I’m done with February. It seems to be the one month out of the year that seems to have it in for me. It’s the one month life decides to rain on me. And apparently when life decides to rain on me, it seems to pour.