Night 3.
"This is the end of every song we sing...where did it go?"
-The Cure
"Alone"
When Sean and I met, one of the first things we discussed was music. It was a huge part of each of our lives, so it was only natural that it would be a huge part of our life together. Our first date was spent discussing the bands we loved and the shows we had seen. (Funny enough, two days before we started talking, I was at a concert at the Wellmont Theater in Montclair - one that he had tried to get tickets for, but couldn't - so instead of being inside listening to the Violent Femmes like I was doing, he was across the street eating dinner at Ani Ramen.)
One of his all time favorite bands was The Cure. He had seen them in concert more times than he could recall and wouldn't just see them once on a tour - he would go each night they played in his area. He told me on our first date that he would love to take me to see them.
Because that's what you do when you love something SO BIG - you want to share the experience with the people that are important to you.
I had always liked The Cure, but not to the extent that he did - in fact in my life I've only known 3 other people who love them like he did. I knew their radio songs - I knew the Disintegration album (one of my favorites actually), but he knew everything. In our time together though, I became almost as familiar with them as I was with U2 and The Beatles - that's how often their music played in our home. Our bridal party entered our wedding ceremony to the opening of Plainsong. He would sing Lovesong to me when I struggled to fall asleep. I surprised him with tickets to see their performance at the Sydney Opera House at AMC theater because I knew he would love to see it - we were two of 7 people in the theater that night - which was great because we both sang along like it was a live show and no one was close enough to complain - not that he would have paid then any mind if they did.
I used the lyrics to Lovesong on the back of his mass card for his wake.
In 2023, they announced they would be playing Madison Square Garden. Both of us entered the lottery to get tickets - I won, he didn't. So the morning the tickets went on sale, my students were given a very long pop quiz, and their teacher sat at her desk waiting for 10am so I could enter my code to buy two tickets to anywhere in the arena.
I was successful and my husband was ecstatic. We were going to their final show in their three night stay at MSG, which also happened to be our last day of school - or it was till we used a snow day and I knew I would be dragging myself into work for the last day in less than stellar shape.
As the date grew closer, Sean's level of excitement was unmatched. He was doing his continual listening to "prep" for the show and kept telling me how great it was going to be and how much I would love it.
And he was right.
They opened with a new song (Alone) which would be the opener on their album that would be released after he died. And they played for almost 3 hours. And it was magical. And for as amazing as it was for me to experience, the best part was seeing Sean enjoy it. That day, and the day before he hadn't been feeling his best. But he rallied and we went and the pure joy on his face made me glad I hadn't pressed the issue of not going. His face was literally shining with love and excitement. For him, it was almost like a religious experience - which I completely understand, as that is what U2 shows are for me. He held my hand for the entire show - tightening his grip during certain songs that were special to us.
Driving home that night, he was already searching YouTube to see if anything from the show had been posted, but since there wasn't, we had to "settle" for the previous night's show.
Throughout the years, Sean started to add some Cure albums to my vinyl collection. If I found something he would like, I would pick it up for him. A few days before he died, I ordered their acoustic greatest hits, Wild Mood Swings and Disintegration on vinyl as a surprise for him since he had been feeling bummed out due to his broken foot. They were delivered the day after the died and I, not being able to deal with that at the moment, put them on the shelf and forgot they were there.
I preordered Songs of A Lost World when it was announced, because I knew that's what he would have done, and listened to Alone over and over when it was released, because that's exactly how he would have experienced it.
A few months ago, I opened the albums I bought for him spent the entire Sunday listening to them. Since his death, my collection has grown and, I spend a lot of time listening.
It was the last concert we would go to together.
As the intro to Alone started, I remembered Sean reaching for my hand and squeezing it tight because he knew it was a new song - which meant, in his mind, a new album. I felt his hand on my knee as Lovesong was performed, and could almost feel the tickle of his beard as he kissed me during Just Like Heaven, and I could hear him whisper the lyrics to Plainsong in my ear as it played on stage.
And there were some tears.
But it was mostly joy.
Joy because I was reintroduced to something so dear to him, that has now become so dear to me.
Joy because I was spending time listening to something that brought him such happiness.
Joy because I have made the conscious decision as I move forward with life, to choose celebrating what an incredible life we had together and not mourn the what will never be and this is one of those celebratory moments.
Joy because that snarky, smeared eyeliner and lipstick wearing man, that sings songs of such beauty, angst and pain, in such a hauntingly beautiful way, made my husband so happy.
And now he does the same for me.
So beautiful. ❤️
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