CPE Reflection #2 - Heavy Things
Heavy Things Phish Refrain Things are falling down on me Heavy things I could not see When I finally came around Something small would pin me down When I tried to step aside I moved to where they hoped I'd be Vanessa calls me on the phone Reminding me I'm not alone I fuss and quake and cavitate I try to speak and turn to stone Telly reaches through my vest To do the thing that she does best She probes and tears my ventricles Steals my one remaining breath. Refrain Stumbling as I fall from grace She needs my vision to replace Her ailing sight throughout the night Leaving two holes in my face Mary was a friend I'd say 'Till one summer day She borrowed everything I owned And then simply ran away. Refrain | When I was in college, I discovered the band Phish. Now, I didn’t fall for any of their greatest hits. According to the music website, Spin, Heavy Things barely makes it into the top 100 of Phish’s hits. But it’s my favorite Phish song, by far. If you’re not familiar, click here to experience it from their 1999 New Year’s Eve Concert. For me, it’s not the lyrics or the music, but the lighthearted combination of the two that make this song so unique. If you only read the lyrics, you might get a dark impression. The way it’s matched with the music creates an upbeat, light, bouncy rendition that seems to mock these supposedly dire circumstances. There’s a history to the song that goes down a deep rabbit hole. We’ll save that. This idea of heavy things falling down on me and being pinned down by something small hit me at a time in my early 20s when small things could pin me down. Those things seem laughable now, but they were major at the time. The lighthearted music served as a way for me to laugh in the face of the heavy things. I’m only a few shifts into my hospital chaplaincy work at Mercy, but one trend that keeps shining through are the heavy things that patients are carrying. |
Talking with Chris, a young adult male in his 30s, about his long-term stay, he was quick to list ways that he was failing his family by being admitted to the hospital. How he must be disappointing people by not being present for them. Most telling was how he couldn’t list anyone besides his aunt (a friend, a church community, etc.) that he could call on for support. I thought about how heavy it must be to carry this hospitalization alone.
In visiting with Nancy, a female in her late 40s, she shared all the ways she knew she had done wrong by God. She described feelings of shame for having her two babies out of wedlock. She felt guilty for being in and out of the hospital for the last two months when her 16-year-old son needed her at home and for putting so much responsibility on her mother to care for her son. She went on to name maybe a dozen people who were depending on her while she was “stuck in this hospital,” and how her absence would have to be causing issues for them. This led to a guilt spiral.
In both examples, the feelings of guilt, shame, and despair permeate the discussion. They beg for words and phrases of reassurance like “You matter, even when you’re in the hospital,” and prayers for patience, strength, and a strong mind to remember that these unique circumstances require special care and attention. Carrying these loads is very heavy. And they are in a place where it would be easy to get pinned down by even the smallest thing.
