[photo from by michael wilson]
I keep turning up the music to try and drown out the sadness.
I’m on a plane from Dallas back to Cincinnati, and I’ve got my headphones on. The good ones. The ones that surround your ear, block everything else out. They’re supposed to anyway. But I’ve been through Fiona, then Fallout Boy, then Metallica…pushing it louder and louder, trying to forget about it, because men on business don’t cry on planes.
I’m trying to stop thinking for a moment about my friend Katie who died this week, and mostly trying to stop imagining what it feels like to be her family right now.
It feels surreal, to tell you the truth. Like an abstract poem I don’t quite understand, but the more I study the words the less I like the shadows they keep casting.
God damn it.
She was so bright, so fun, so powerful, so sweet, and so unstoppably honest. She was brave as hell, too…from her career to her relationship with her partner to her motherhood to battle with this tumor…so brave. More brave than I’ve ever hoped to be.
She was articulate, kind, and creative. She had a singing voice that spelled sugar and push simultaneously to me; a boyish timbre rutted into a Brownie undertone, as if Scout herself bought a guitar and learned to wail. Her recordings became a critical part of the soundtrack of my college days. Her recording of “Blue Like That” still stands as one of my most treasured audio-lockets…and if I think more about that, I will cry on this plane, and I don’t intend to do that.
Katie was giving and adventurous. When I called her in the midst of putting together her second record and invited her, at absolutely no pay, reward, or promise of decent food, to trek out into the wilderness of Indiana with my brother and I to play music and entertain junior high kids for a weekend…she didn’t hesitate. She packed her guitar, donned a preposterous wig and Cruella deVille jacket, joined our silly weekend without fanfare or prodding, and spent the next 72 hours improvising the flavor of ridiculous dialogue that makes 13-year-olds giggle.
When I caught my hand on fire trying to play a lighter-fluid dragon, she did the only thing that made sense to her at the time…shoved it between her thighs and squeezed. We laughed until one of us peed.
The only thing that ever bothered her was when someone would call her by her full-name-as-one-word, like “TigerWoods” or “GarthBrooks.” She was a musician and aspired to sing for the world, but I never got the feeling she wanted to be a celebrity…not like that.
Katie gave out of a very honest place, and she gave a lot. She sang out of a very real place, and she sang beautifully. She was hilarious, and she was lovely.
I have no idea how to think about Katie’s death.
I’m sad, and I’m angry, and I’m doubting. And I’m so, so sorry. Reider family, I am so sorry. Karen, I am so sorry. I feel like you deserve better than this.
Katie, I miss who you are. I’m glad you are not suffering any more, and I know you’re back home with your mom…wherever that place is…but I can’t help but feel like the world was better with you here.
Peace,
Justin
5 comments:
well said, thanks for sharing your unprocessed thoughts. - craig
Justin,
I grieve with you my friend. I've tried so many times to write something worth more than words on a page and each time I found myself at a loss for words worthy of the soul, the embodiment of who she was.
I remember vividly that cool autumn weekend in Indiana with our Jr. High kids. Personally, it was a trying time for me and my family as it was just a few days prior that I got my beloved little sister back from my mother when she took her and left our family. It was that weekend full of Katie's antics, voice, and spirit that I was able to put it all aside and get lost in that world we all tried to create for thoe kids even if only for 3 days. That's who Katie was. She was silly, loving, wonderfully brave, and most of all humble. She never forgot a face and if she did, she never showed it. Whether she was around a campfire or playing huge venues with nearly sold-out crowds, or spending time with her family and friends, she was that same bright-eyed girl. She made her life count and I'm honored to have been one who was touched by her beauty and by her sould. I mourn with you, all the Reiders, and Karen and their dear boys. We lost a most lovely woman!
As someone who knew KT much less than you I am left feeling incredibly sad but incredibly fortunate to have spent the limited time with her that I did. It's funny because for the longest time KT represented the hot singing chic that was humble yet so confident on stage that you couldn't help but be drawn to her. Then after the weekend in Indiana I knew her as a giving, kind, and absolutely hilarious person who brought joy not only to the kids but to you (Justin) and I. She was just plain awesome to be around. As usual you said it much better than brother, thanks for the thoughts.
Hello. I wanted to make sure you saw this piece that ran in the New York Times.
http://tinyurl.com/5a7xz2
I ran across your posting by accident. I know the Reider family and share your feelings. What you said was beautiful.
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