I already miss Chuck Berry.
Saturday, I went with my wife and daughter to see the new Beauty and the Beast movie. At the end, as the credits rolled, I turned my phone back on.
And then I got the news notification that Chuck Berry had died.
I was surprised how hard this hit me. Sure, I was a fan. I even knew a bit about him, and had seen the terrific documentary “Hail! Hail! Rock And Roll” (which I watched again Saturday night.
I have been doing the Psychic Tapestry radio show for almost four years now. And in that time, I’ve had my own share of experiences (maybe more than my share). I know we all go on. I know that this isn’t it. I know that everyone I’ve ever known and loved is still around; they didn’t end when they passed from this life.
I’ve even talked to dead people (and some have talked to me).
I say all that not to brag. It’s just that I felt that I had learned enough, that when someone died, I would know they still existed. That also made me think that I wouldn’t be sad about losing them, since I knew we don’t really lose anyone.
But when I saw that Chuck Berry had died, the tears flowed.
I felt the same Leon Russell died a few months ago. And last year, Glenn Frey’s death was also hard on me.
There were plenty of others, but those were the ones that leaped to mind.
My connection to music is what made me feel close to these folks, even though I never met them. But that isn’t really the point.
The point is that the grief I felt surprised me because I knew I hadn’t really lost Chuck Berry. He had just transitioned and is only a thought away (and probably feeling better than he did when he was in his ninety-year-old body).
Grief isn’t something you just shrug off because you know that we don’t really die and that we all go on. It’s something we all deal with, just because we’re human.
And that isn’t a fault. It’s not a short-coming. It’s not something you should be embarrassed about.
And there’s no time limit on it.
This isn’t just about Chuck Berry. This goes for family and friends, for anyone you have known and loved. You don’t just get over it in a day or a week or a month or a year.
Even if you know they’re still around, they still love you and that they’re only a thought away.
The truth is, you never really get over it. You just figure out a way to live with it. Day by day.
And that is okay.
It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry. Even after it’s been days or weeks or months or years.
Just remember that you also need to live your life. You’re still here. You have things to do, and people to love.
At times, it can be overwhelming. At times, it can hit you out of the blue. At times, it can be a mix of both, or somewhere in between.
Grieving isn’t the same for all of us. And you have to manage it as best you can, even if that means letting yourself cry and deciding not to manage it at all.
You aren’t alone. Your loved ones, your guides, your angels are always just a thought away. And you can talk to them, even if you don’t always hear them talking back.
They always listen. And they love to be remembered. And they love you.
You can be sad that they died. You can even be angry that they left you. They understand, and they still love you.
And you should never think that the grief you feel is wrong, or that you should be over it by now.
Your loved ones, your guides and angels are always with you, always supporting you and always sending you their love. Even when you feel lost and alone. Especially when you feel lost and alone.
I know Chuck Berry isn’t gone. And I’m grateful for the time we did have him here, and I’m grateful that we’ll always have his music.
But part of me will always be sad that, on this plane at least, we had to say goodbye.
Ken Kessler has always been interested in psychic phenomena, and like Mulder on the X-Files, wants to believe. But like most, he tends to look for, and accept, rational explanations. (More)