Healing Punch

Healing Punch

“The Offspring” the tickets read. I was so excited to go. After my brother died last year, I haven’t been out much. It was hard to make sense of life. He was my best friend. I knew he would want me to enjoy a night out. A punk rock show was exactly what I needed.

I put on my black tank top with black washed jeans and my black adidas, straightened my hair and put my hoops in. I called an uber and headed downtown. I met my friend at a local bar for drinks and food. It felt nice to be able to “relax”. I haven’t done that in a while. I’m usually walking around very antsy. I ordered a beer and yam fries. I love yam fries and beer together. Its not some grand pairing, but its delicious. The atmosphere of the bar was flowy and dim. It was UFC fight night and the bar was packed. We paid the bill and walked to the arena. We got floor seats and I was ready to dance and scream along to every song.

“The Kids Aren’t Alright” started playing and everyone started dancing. The mosh pit was going strong; I jumped in and started head banging. SMASH. Someone’s fist connected perfectly with my face. Stunned, I looked around to see everyone still moshing. I blinked a couple of times and went back to my seat. The music was loud, my adrenaline was settling and I could start to feel the sting of that person’s fist. It felt a lot like the sting of grief. Shocks you and leaves you in pain. I eased back into the concert. Letting the vibrations of the music settle into my body. It felt good to move. Moving grief through my arms and legs.

I thought about my brother, and the sting of his absence. The smash of the news that he’s gone. And how I’ve eased back into life. I still had fun and enjoyed the show. I can take that as a lesson to still enjoy life even when it stings.