As I am writ­ing this,  I am aware that today is the 4 th anniversary of my father­’s passing. I have approached it with ambi­val­ence.  I feel anger with myself for nearly for­get­ting it was com­ing up. But I know he would­n’t mind. He would would just want us to live happy lives. I also feel a lot of guilt, think­ing I could have done more, seen him more.  But guilt seems to fol­lows us every­where, all those I have per­son­ally known who have lost someone have expressed guilt and remorse in one form or another.

2 weeks before he died he tried to give me a neck­lace of a box­ing glove that he always wore. He was a box­er in his youth. I kept push­ing it away. I could­n’t under­stand why he was so insist­ent that I take it. In the end I took it and put it in my bag. The day after he died I reached into my bag and found it. I did­n’t even remem­ber it was there It was almost as he felt his end­ing was immin­ent. A couple of weeks later, he passed. And I will always remem­ber that knock on the door, with 2 police­man on the oth­er side. And even before they spoke, I knew.

Sub­sequently I lost that neck­lace he had giv­en me and was dev­ast­ated. That was when I real­ised that he was­n’t in that neck­lace after all. That jew­ellery was merely a sym­bol. Actu­ally he was more act­ive in my memor­ies than in arti­facts. And it is those I carry around with me, not a chain with a box­ing glove attached.

Music is often a for­um to chan­nel grief,  pain, and loss. Words alone are some­times not enough. Without music we would struggle to express so much in the lay­ers beneath the sur­face. I have needed music at times in my life when i was broken. It helped me sur­vive. I remem­ber the song by Don McLean: “Some­thing broke me deep inside the day the music died “.

The first Lowkey song I heard was, Bars for my broth­er, about loss and grief.  It res­on­ated with me espe­cially because it touched on feel­ings i had about my father­’s death “why did I have to lose you to real­ise that I loved you “. I did always love him but I wish so badly that I had told him that more. It taught me not to leave things unsaid so you don’t have regrets.

Loss can take many forms.  Addic­tion was present in my life for a long time. drugs were there for me, good and bad, through think and thin, they both helped me and hindered me. At first they brought relief from the intern­al pain i was exper­i­en­cing but instead,  iron­ic­ally, they began to cause noth­ing but more pain. Soon my best friend became my biggest enemy. But still the loss of that rela­tion­ship goes on and on.

We assume that loss is just related to bereave­ment. But it encom­passes so much more. Loss can pen­et­rate your soul. It invokes a line from a poem i wrote after my fath­er died:

“My heart, just like yours that day, can­not be revived”

But some­how, in ways I don’t know and can­not describe, I have man­aged to sur­vive. Some losses are needed in life in order to grow.

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Kate Taylor

Kate Taylor is a Lon­don based writer whose Interests are based primar­ily on music and art and also the philo­sophies and polit­ics that accom­pany them. In addi­tion she has an Msc in psy­cho­logy, has worked as a ther­ap­ist, and paints abstract art pieces.

About Kate Taylor

Kate Taylor is a London based writer whose Interests are based primarily on music and art and also the philosophies and politics that accompany them. In addition she has an Msc in psychology, has worked as a therapist, and paints abstract art pieces.