Edition #34
New Year: Grief, Pain, Light and Rebirth…
Dear brothers, sisters, friends, and loved ones,
I hope you had a fulfilling, peaceful and resting holiday season, and that you had the joyful opportunity to share significant moments with people you care about. Those instants, as brief, simple, and swift as they might be, always found a way to guide us through the bleakest periods of our lives, no matter how discouraged and sorrowful we may be at times. It makes it even more important to nurture the candescent essence of those tiny flashes sparkling our way as they come, as much as when they go. It’s quite puzzling to discern the real from the fake mirroring reflection of reality, especially as what seems “worth” dwelling on becomes pretty mixed up with the notion of feeling good or bad… which is a deceiving affair when you think about it for a minute. And every occasion we have to press “pause”, for holidays or else, we are facing that strange complexity regarding the notion of what is supposed to be happiness in a global context and what we instinctively know is personal serenity. The ever-growing pressure to project a certain display of a form of blissful self-fabricated enhanced type of imagined persona to the world is the ultimate product of that constant… and its utmost tragedy, I suppose.
I realized over the year, and even more so as I wasn’t able to talk, read, write, or move much following months trying to recover from my near-fatal heart surgery, that loneliness is not a social status, nor a circumstantial conjuncture, but a matter of the heart – an emotional disposition in a way – one we tend to overlook whenever the stream of our journey becomes somewhat incomprehensible, deceptive, or unfathomable. Again, happiness quickly becomes a strange form of hindering commodity that seems to be a little more unreachable with each passing of our distressing days, with every one of our tormenting sleepless nights… Yet, and it’s the catch I guess, comes a new dawn, as faithful as the morning light, reminding us all of the newborn possibilities ahead, of the new arising promises awaiting to be unfolded, of the new transformative opportunities coming with it all. A new life-reshaping design, a new existential resurgence. It would be somewhat cruelly sadistic of a reality if it wasn’t true, as it’s so terribly challenging to live free from the cynicisms of nowadays’ growing apathy and indifference, particularly when sarcasm feels like a bit of a comforting remedy, after an incalculable amount of emotional band-aids we keep on applying over and over to hide a wound’s pain we’ve learned to accept, as we’re trying to cover a lifelong of ever-growing disillusions and implacable brokenness of dreams. Still, the same fragile light we grew to despise and cursed so often for its obstinate refusal to disappear with the night it follows keeps on shining… every single day.
And the tiny light becomes some sort of a time marker; another day, another month, another year… Life goes on, and so we wish we are, as well. But moving ain’t evolving, as much as solitude has nothing to do with loneliness.
I used to hate it with everything I was, until I became grateful for its shining presence. It was comforting somehow to see it every morning, regardless of the pain it also brought back with it. The emancipation from our self-projected entity is not as easy as we might believe. Well, it ain’t for me, mainly as I had defined that public illusion of “self” as a defensive pretext from the world I was living in and the individuals I was surrounded by… However, the actual “enemy” of the plenitude of the heart and soul has always been living within me; loneliness – and the result of everything that led it to such a decaying state of self, may it be the fear of rejection or being inconsequential, the doubts of not being enough to be loved, the frightening perception of being a failure or to have completely missed your mark, and on, and on. Its incarnations are more numerous than the suffering they cause. No wonder we need to trigger any form of blissful sensations with whatever fits the scenery we have crafted to avoid any more of that emotional desolation and fill an imaginary dream rather than live in a true nightmare. And yet, the tiny hopeful flame keeps on shining on with every new dawn, more faithful than the lies and make-believes we repeatedly tell ourselves in order to keep on going without having to deal with any of that reality we feel like we are condemned to exist in. And the tiny light becomes some sort of a time marker; another day, another month, another year… Life goes on, and so we wish we are, as well. But moving ain’t evolving, as much as solitude has nothing to do with loneliness.
The holiday season wasn’t as joyful as I wish it would have been for me. But what might feel like a grim and pessimistic tone reflecting the affective distress of what I went through – and still am – is in fact the total opposite, as this journal publication is a highly positive response to what I’m experiencing as I’m writing those words. If it’s always how we are facing the different dimensions of the journey we are in that defines its next step, I will give you a few contextual elements to understand what I’m going through and the decisions that came out of it.
Farewell My Sweet Lil Boy MacKaye
As most of you already know, my beloved pup MacKaye has been courageously fighting a rare form of lymphoma cancer he had been diagnosed with last June. Six months of elating ups and devastating downs, five of those months being a graceful gift considering that the specialists’ initial diagnosis was a 4-week life expectancy in the utmost optimistic case. In other words, he was condemned without any possible appeal, without any prospect of being healed or stabilized. It was as brutal and fierce a cancer as it was too rare to even have any form of extended chemo protocols to even try. I was completely devastated by the verdict. I was in the middle of a very hard and hazardous recovery myself, I was physically exhausted and emotionally worn out. I have never been into the “Why?!?” or “Why me?!?” or “Why Now?!?” type of wondering lament… I haven’t been wired like that, and that’s why I keep everything that dearly matters to me deep down inside, or that I rarely share the full extent of my sufferings or allow myself to take a moment to breathe at all. So I called every possible veterinarian hospital treating cancer I could find and visited more clinics than I can count. The silver lining came with the fact that the best dog cancer hospital was actually in Virginia, 90 minutes away from my home, and that it was one of the only hospitals in the United States to research MacKaye’s cancer type and to develop specific treatments for it. For months, my life has been solely dedicated to MacKaye’s health – and it was highly promising. He went from being blind from having too much blood in his eyes, to being unable to walk by himself and being incontinent, to basically becoming his former joyful and playful self again. I wasn’t in denial nor in any way fooling myself about MacKaye’s reality and the outcomes associated with it, but I became more hopeful with every chemo session, even if some were more intense than others. MacKaye would be tired for a few days but beautifully upbeat soon after. I approached every day as the blessing it was for us both to stretch the implacable nature of time together.
That being said, I’ve been completely caught unguarded by the virulence of his health decline over the last 4 days that led to his passing, especially since the latest chemotherapy treatment he underwent on December 11th had gone so well. The traces of cancer were considerably less significant in comparison to his previous biopsies, and I was even beginning to envision what would have been an almost miraculous remission. Then on December 21st, I started to notice changes in his energy level, followed by a steady decrease in appetite, which led to a refusal to eat altogether by December 24th. It was a “normal” state, something that could happen, that I had been previously informed about, therefore to be expected. As long as he kept on drinking, it wasn’t alarming. His specialist gave him nutrients and we’d give him subcutaneous fluids. MacKaye’s mood, if slower and sleepier, was upbeat still, until December 27th, when I had to carry him outside in the morning. He was somehow “ok” for the next few hours, but since he hadn’t slept that night and was breathing heavily, I went to the Virginia Tech Emergency and Critical Care clinic, where they explained that MacKaye’s condition was critical and that only 2 choices were now available for me to decide. One was to do an experimental treatment that might or might not have a boosting effect on his system but that would come with significant side effects. The other was to put him to sleep. I was stunned, even though I knew during the previous night that we were reaching the potential end of what had turned into an impossible uphill battle. I felt like receiving a knockdown blow in the stomach. I was crying, and felt dizzy and powerless. I must have stood over there, livid, immobile, for quite a long moment before the oncologist gave me some space and time to process what felt like the inevitable. I was incredibly exhausted and couldn’t imagine what MacKaye was so voluntarily enduring to make it another day – and that for the last 6 months. His courage and determination truly defied nature itself. I knew he offered me that gift… Now it was my turn to honor his faithful love towards me.
I decided to drive back to his local vet, where he had basically become a daily visitor ever since his cancer was diagnosed. It is a place filled with an exceptional caring heart towards animals, led by a vet version of “Patch Adams” (Google his name to know about that incredible person). His vet was as devastated as I was when he heard the news over the phone. We both remained silent over the phone, but he assured me that he would do everything in his power to make it right by MacKaye. I just didn’t want him to suffer any longer… That was our secret deal between him and I. The minute I would see his quality of life be too diminished for him to do what he usually loves, it would be the signal. I didn’t want to be selfish, even though I didn’t want him to go… But that was our pact together. The 2-hour drive back home from the Virginia Tech Emergency and Critical Care clinic was painfully unbearable. If the sceneries in the Highlands are spectacularly beautiful, the ride was an endless self-torture of doubts, of regrets, of souvenirs, and of guilt. It brought me back to my father’s passing, to the reality that I almost died on a surgery table only a few months earlier. I must have become an expert in pretending I was alright and acting the part… but I was physically, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually shattered. The only reason why I didn’t collapse was because of MacKaye’s head lying on my arm while I was driving. It wasn’t over yet, and I owed him that ultimate peaceful countdown. It wasn’t about me, it was about him… The “me” part would have to come later, knowing it might never truly come… in the hope of keeping my heart alive as long as possible.
We arrived home, I lifted him in my arms and went to our room where Leonard was impatiently and worrisomely waiting for him, for us. I let him down on our bed, where we had a moment all together. Leonard was licking and cuddling him. MacKaye laid on my chest for a long session of kisses, as he always did after his chemo treatment. None of us 3 wanted to sleep, nor wanted to let a second go by… We stayed like that for more than 2 hours until we had to prepare ourselves to head out to the vet. MacKaye surprisingly stood by himself, descended the 2 stories down to the first floor, sat right at the door, and asked to go for a walk… just like he had done countless times before. It was such a surreal chain of events that it was clear to me that he knew what was about to happen. So we walked like we usually did 3 to 4 times a day, down and up the mountain, a good 1.5 miles (2.5 kilometers) in total. He was running ahead of me, enthusiastically taking the treats I was giving him after days of refusing to put anything in his mouth. I was as troubled as I was stupefied at that point. I turned to Stephanie and Miss Isabel who had come with us and shared my sudden doubts. They were as puzzled as I was. Jeff came to pick us up at the bottom of the mountain and was as surprised as we were, not only by the fact that MacKaye was walking on his own all the way down but to witness his upbeat behavior.
We arrived at the vet and instead of initiating a last protocol, I asked to do a full health examination, which was consistent with what had been his new normal for the last few months. The vet, a holistic animal doctor, explained to us that it’s common for an animal having a strong connection with his human companion to want to have a bit more time with him before letting go, which was obviously the case between us two. I asked him if he was suffering. He said that there were no pointers suggesting so, other than being extremely tired and slightly dehydrated. He added that MacKaye would let me know when he would be ready. So we agreed to give him a mineral solution and headed back home, deeply grateful to have a bit more time to say goodbye. I held him in my arms all night so he could sleep. He was happy but tired in the morning. I thanked him once more for everything he had been for me. He asked for a final walk down his mountain. He went slowly as if he wanted to appreciate all of our sighting spots one last time. Jeff picked us up like he had done the day before. We all knew it would be the end soon. We arrived at the vet, where he welcomed us like family. He explained how it would go. MacKaye and I laid down on his favorite bed that I had brought. Contrary to the day before, Leonard was highly agitated; he knew as well and that was the reason why I wanted him to be there too. They were 2 brothers out of an eight-puppy pack. Leo was born immediately after Mac, and they had never been separated in their lives. So I didn’t want him to wait for MacKaye’s return… I knew he wouldn’t understand otherwise.
The rest is a bit blurry to be honest, if not for one of the most incredible scenes I have ever seen in my life. After the vet gave a calming shot to MacKaye, he spent 10-15 minutes licking my hand lightly and in such a caring and comforting manner. I was crying… We all were. Leo was uncharacteristically very calm. The vet came back into the room and asked me if I was ready. I didn’t answer… But MacKaye stood up, and went to see everyone around him individually. He licked them all, concluding his last round of goodbyes with Leonard, before lying down right in front of the vet, his front legs stretched in front of him… He was ready and he knew I would have never given the “go”, so he spared me what would have been an everlasting guilt to have put him to sleep. While receiving his last injection, he put his head on my lap, looked at me with his unique way of smiling at me when I was crying, and slowly let go. We all realized the moment he was gone when Leonard released soft high-pitched whispers… And just like that, he was gone… I held him for about 2 hours before the funeral home came to take care of his body. I kissed him one last time, thanked the vet, who had obviously cried in his office, hugged the personnel who had asked to be there for MacKaye, and left back home… I went to my room with Leonard and probably passed out for a while…
MacKaye had always been a very special character. Everyone who met him called him “Little Human” as he was acting so differently from the expected dog behaviors. He had a very strong and particular personality. Every little detail of the day was defined by our unique bond. When I wasn’t on tour, we were together 24/7. I often flew back home to break the long touring schedules I had so I could spend time with him and Leonard… We had our routine, our secret codes, our own language. He was not only choosing his several daily walk routings, reminding me that I had to do my physical therapy, or letting me know it was time for his sunbathing sessions, but he was also a center part of my creative universe, sleeping on his couch when I was writing in my office, sleeping on my lap when I was reading out loud to work on my dyslexia issues, singing when I was doing vocal exercises, and even was at my feet when I was rehearsing with the band or recording in the studio. As much as he seemed to be exasperated when I was spending hours on guitar feedback or when I was trying to find some sound oscillations, we would sit outside for hours, looking at the mesmerizing wildlife we were surrounded with… All that between moments when he would interrupt what I was doing to play our kissing game. That was him as much as it was me… It was “us” in a very distinctive and ultra-rare type of relationship.
Therefore, the next couple of days were like living in a weightless motion between the pain associated with my new reality and my otherwise complete disconnection with the other people who came to support me. I was there without being there. There wouldn’t be any New Year sunrise gathering this time… I don’t know how to explain it, if not by the simple fact that I was experiencing what solitude seems to truly be about… emptiness.
Time Is Always Now
I was relieved that we were transitioning from 2023 to 2024, even if that passing is more cosmetic than magic. Since 2023 has been an incredibly challenging year for me, I was gladly taking the cosmetic effect just to have the impression of moving a little further in the opposite direction. I felt like I was already in motion, but with my hands and arms wide open this time, willing to be positively surprised by what life might have in store for me. And surprises came quickly, as a friend visited me from Europe to offer me 2 absolutely stunning fan books dedicated to the decision we make to live. I’m an extremely private person and very rarely expose the full extent of my wounds, but that gesture, that gift, really spoke to me loudly, and in many ways will define this already ongoing year. This journal entry is the immediate response to that kindness, to that benevolence, and it helped me avoid turning myself to loneliness as I did for the most part of my tenure as Your Favorite Enemies’ band leader… Do I still feel solitude? Absolutely. I will for a while… But in my case, it’s a healthy process, one that I need to go through, with the support of my friends, my new management family, and, of course, all of you… Just like MacKaye has always been at my side, you also are, may it be through a comment, a message, a letter, a postcard, a gift, a hug, a wink, a picture, a video, or else. It makes all the difference in the world for me, and I’m grateful to you all.
I believe MacKaye knew I would refuse to leave him on his own had he not passed. I was already looking to fly home back and forth between my different summer festival appearances, trying to find impossible ways to be at his side while touring abroad. I would have been too worried to focus on my next record production coming up, one that I already had pushed back. I knew it was complete nonsense, that it would be seen as an overreaction… I could hear it: “It’s only a dog, you’re not 5 years old, get over it, be an adult.” All true. But it goes deeper than that for me, and if I’m not the type to over-spiritualize everything to find comfort and peace, I’m nonetheless grateful for everything that happened in 2023. Oh, I wish most of it would have never occurred, trust me, but I know I had to stop hiding and be deprived of pretty much everything that used to define me and push me to decide what would be next. I know what being miserable feels like, so it’s time for me to embrace life for real, to step into the natural light instead of living under the neon of my own sustainable demise. Life is strange, so, so strange, but it also demonstrates that love conquers all… From loneliness to even the most profound state of solitude and emptiness. And as crazy as it may sound, I discover even more of that daily shining light through Leonard’s behaviors, who’s been acting tremendously good and has been beautifully peaceful ever since we lost MacKaye. It tells me that we can allow our grieving hearts to slowly heal and rebuild while we’re looking for a new footing and rhythm in our lives.
So… What’s Ahead?
I will soon announce the details of the upcoming project I crafted during my recovery with my precious friend and creative accomplice Ben (who’s also the lead guitarist in The Long Shadows) and with Japanese artist and longtime collaborator Momoka. I’m really impatient to finally be able to share it all with you, as it’s not only a very special journey from which every incarnation will bloom and grow pretty much all year, but it will also mark a much more steady flow of new material releases from that point on.
Another very significant element that is set to take a meaningful place on my agenda very soon is what I refer to as my upcoming full-band upbeat neo-prog noise album production. Well, I could call it by its title, but we’re quite far from the moment I’ll be unveiling specific details regarding this particular entity, so that’s the only pointer I can give you so far. I might highlight some of those new songs when I get back on stage to play a string of European festivals next summer, communal moments I just can’t wait to experience with you. I greatly miss it, like I profoundly miss every one of you. No need to say it might be a loud, intense, and loving demonstration of that longing sensation I feel thinking of you. If you’ve already been part of one of my live concerts, well… It’s about to be even more … How can I say…? Engaging. 😉
Until then, I want to thank you again and again for your loving care towards me, for your countless New Year wishes, your beautiful Christmas cards, and your heartfelt gifts. I have slowly started to open them and it’s already taking away pieces of my actual pain and solitude, one tiny layer at a time. Trust me, it matters more than I can explain or even express.
Be blessed, my precious friends and family… And yes, life is always worth believing in. Don’t take my word for it; simply wait for the light that comes up with every new dawn!
With love,
AHF
Update: A little after I concluded this writing, I received a call from the funeral home to let me know that MacKaye’s ashes were waiting for me to go back home. It had been furiously raining all day, a forecast that used to prompt my sun-lover Mac to spend as much time on my lap as possible. It was very difficult for me to hold onto all the painful sadness I tried to otherwise keep inside. I waited to recollect myself and went to get MacKaye… It was pouring rain, and the whole mountain was flooded with huge cascades of surging torrents of water. But once I got back home, the sky got clearer, and late splashes of sun slowly appeared amongst the otherwise menacing black clouds. As I brought MacKaye’s ashes into my creative office, I noticed a sudden bright and colorful rainbow, like I had never seen around here before. A very large and contrasting piece of rainbow with a predominance of electric green and orange. I’m not into signs and wonders, but I took it as a message promising me that I would be alright even when I’ll be facing the raging storms of life. And I found a great comforting warmth in my heart and soul witnessing the brief instant such a vivid display of hope was on. I whispered a last “thank you” through tears and it disappeared with the slowly fading daylight, the rain leaving place to a soft and mild wind caressing my face. I looked at the sky saying “Safe travels, my sweet lil MacKaye, wherever you’re headed. You know where your home will always be. I’ll be waiting for your light at dawn.” The picture in the header is the rainbow I managed to capture on my phone before it disappeared.