I have a book that I'm always quoting from called 365 Words of Well-Being for Women by Rachel Snyder. I thought of you this morning after reading your touching, heart-felt "tantrum" as you called it on the Memorial Book and wanted to share this with you, in case you're ever back this way again:
"Let yourself feel the pain of losing. Grieve for a friendship that's over or a parent who has died. Pour out the anguish that comes with being fired from your job, laying a beloved animal to rest, having your pride and your stature and your belongings stripped away from you. Feel how much it hurts. Take absolutely as long as you need. Cry and wail. Sob and fall to the floor if you must; put everything else aside while your tears flow. Scream and bang your fists against something soft and cry out WHY?, knowing there isn't really an answer you can wrap your brain around. Grieve for the loss of a part of yourself. When you're empty, when the grieving subsides, remember that spring always follows winter and that every time something dies, something else is born."
She's right, Carrie. Kathy always finds the most appropriate things to put on here.
I know you don't go to the "fan thing" site much but I hope you do today. Though we can never fully feel the pain you're going through at the loss of your dad, you've seen now from reading the Memorial Book that we all love him, too. For many of us, he and the rest of your uncles and your aunt have been a big part of our lives especially the last few years. Your dad gave us so much pleasure in listening to him and watching him and talking with him. Just as you want to remember the episode under the restaurant table, we cherish all the snippets of time we got to spend with him, too. Your dad was special...but he left a special legacy in his children and grandchildren. God's blessings to you, Carrie. Grieve how you need to and don't think about it for a second around us.
"This is it, right here! This is what it's all about...THIS is the Flyin' Wamboozie!" ~ Barry Cowsill, ToRI 2000
Barry Cowsill left several legacies, his children and grandchildren, his music and so many memories. We aren't ready to let go of him or to say goodbye but life has dealt us this blow and now we have to find a way to do both. I know the feeling of losing both a parent and siblings young and one of them tragically, so I know how the family feels as well as how I feel as a fan/friend. We care about the Cowsills not just as a band but as a family, as people because they have extended themselves to their fans/friends and opened their lives up. They didn't have to and we never expected it. Truly, there is an extended family here at cowsill.com. All of them have made a tremendous contribution to humankind.
We hold the Cowsill family in the highest esteem and always will. We grieve for Barry, for the family and for ourselves.
Dear Carrie (hope you're reading this), Your memory of your dad as you wrote it, that under-the-table memory, was so vivid. I too had a father who was not present on a daily basis; my folks got divorced when I was three and ever after, he was only a visitor to me, and only a few times a year. He smoked and drank and I still to this day remember him when I step into an elevator that smells like smoke! Like your dad, mine was pretty outrageous and yet he loved me so much, I never doubted that.
My parents have both passed away and I've also had a child die. Grief is so hard, but one of the best things we can do is just express what we are feeling and remembering. I'm really touched by what you wrote.
There's so little I can add to the very sensitive and articulate posts that preceed this, except to reiterate how much we empathise with you and your loss, how much we value your dad and his gifts to us as you value his very special presence in your life, and how very very healthy your venting some of your grief and frustration here is and how honoured we all are here to have Barry's very nearest and dearest loved ones feel that our gathering place here is a safe and suitable place for you to share some of your grief, and perhaps to find some healing here.
God bless you, there is no doubt your dad is in heaven doing the same now.