“I don’t want to feel the pain today.”

First of all, I just want to thank everyone for the heartwarming response to this song. Thank you to those who reached out to my family and I during this time, and thank you for being vulnerable enough to share your stories of loss and grieving with me. It is that kind of unity that I was hoping this song would bring. Just like the famous quote from WandaVision, "What is grief but love persevering?"

The past month and a half have not been easy on my family. As I’ve posted about before, I lost my grandmother, Lucille Walsh, on New Year’s Eve. At the same time, on the other side of my family, my grandfather Vincent Macrillo became very sick. Last Friday, February 4th, he passed away.

I’ve never experienced as much loss in my life as what I’ve experienced in the last two years. I’m still haunted by the passings of Kyle Robinson and Marvin Chavez each day. After them, it was my grandfather, Richard Walsh, only to be followed by my grandmother Lucille a little more than a year later. Shortly after her, the Hudson Valley Theatre community heard about Kevin Archambault, which ended up hitting more than I thought it would. And now, Grandpa Macrillo.

I’ve noticed so much loss recently outside of myself. I’ve spoken to many neighbors, friends, and family, consoling each other for losses we’ve experienced. Too often I am hearing that grandparents, parents, siblings, neighbors, and friends are all passing away. Despite Covid restrictions, I haven’t been to nearly as many wakes and services as I have since 2020. Frankly, it’s draining.

In regards to Grandpa Macrillo, he was a very hardworking man. He devoted himself to his work and projects, and was an incredible handyman and cook. He would hold annual family cookouts where everyone from all over the east coast would come and visit by the pool. Family was very important to him, and he was at his happiest when he was with his relatives, especially those he grew up with in Massachusetts. I remember as a kid, he always said that he would send me to the moon. I also remember this one exchange I had with him: he asked me if I knew when I was turning four years old. I responded with “when I’m done being 3.”

I spent much of my early years at Grandma and Grandpa Macrillo’s while my folks worked. That’s what made it very hard when Grandpa started declining with dementia. My mom spent the last four and half years caring for him, my grandmother, and my uncle. I would go and help out when I could between college and work. Much of what I saw my mom and uncles do would teach me how to be a caregiver for my paternal grandparents eventually. It has been an exhausting journey, but nothing prepared any of us for Grandpa getting sick.

All of the death and loss have been excruciating. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to grieve over one thing by the time the next thing rolls around. I feel emotionally unavailable and exhausted.

One night recently, about two or three weeks after my grandmother passed, I was playing piano and I came up with the opening lick, and I was hit by both grief and inspiration the next night to expand upon it. I stayed up until I had to do the news for Townsquare at 5 in the morning the next day. The song practically wrote itself as soon as I uttered the first line, “I don’t want to feel the pain today.” I was mainly thinking about my grandmother while writing this song, and I very much attribute this song to her- I think of it as “her song” - however, I feel that all the loss I’ve dealt with worked its way into the emotion behind this song. I tried to keep it relatively open so that anyone dealing with a loss of some kind can relate.

So, I wanted to offer this up to anyone going through a hard time right now. I want to express my condolences to all those whom I know are dealing with a loss in their own way. These last two years have been far from easy, and I hope to see some better days soon. In the meantime, don’t leave words on the tip of your tongue. Say it while you have the chance.

linktr.ee/conorwalshmusic