Tag Archive for: Edie Carey



“All this time believing love meant someone’s leaving…” Edie Carey in Easy Now from her album Bring the Sea

I have abandonment issues. Not the ones you might think, though. I would actually prefer to be abandoned a hundred times over than think that I might be the one responsible for leaving someone else high and dry. The truth is, while the notion of being left behind is sad and a little lonely, I’ve been there before and I know I can handle it. There is a strong sense of power and control and core competency that shows itself when I imagine being abandoned. Almost a righteousness – “See? I don’t need you. You weren’t smart enough to recognize how much I add to your life and how much you ought to be here with me. Your loss.”
No, I am afraid of being the abandoner. From the day my dear Eva was born and I realized the magnitude of my responsibility for her, I have been plagued with occasional moments of panic when I thought I might not be able to rise to the occasion. When Lola came along and Bubba started getting sick, I insulated the ties with my girls by adding layers of steel. Something might happen to him, but I would be damned if I was leaving my girls all alone. No way! I wasn’t going to go away and let them grow up thinking I had abandoned them.
Even in the midst of my greatest depression, it was the stark reality of caring for the girls that kept me going day after day. The knowledge of what a sudden loss can do to a child. How they internalize the reasons, rational or not, and come to believe that they somehow caused this person to leave.
Two days ago Bubba and I drove the girls two hours away to a sleepover camp where they will stay for a week. They were excited, if a little nervous since this marks the first time either of them has been away from home for that long. Each of them invited a close friend to join them, and I know that Eve and Lola will take comfort in knowing that the other is there (although not sharing the same cabin, “Thank goodness!”) and our good-byes were blessedly free of tears or clinging.
Three months ago when I signed the girls up for this camp I was thrilled. The notion of having both girls away in a safe place for a week in the summertime left me with all sorts of possibilities for ways Bubba and I could enjoy time alone together. I threatened him with a thorough neck-wringing if he scheduled a business trip during this one, precious week.
He did.
In his defense, it is a very necessary trip to visit a very important client.
In his defense, it is only for two nights and he invited me to come along.
So I am.
And I sailed over the first hurdle quite cleanly, thank you. When Bubba asked me what our contingency plan was should the camp call with news that someone is sick or Lola has broken a(nother) bone, I replied that we would have their aunt go pick them up and I would immediately fly home and everything would be fine.
This second hurdle is a bitch. Last night it occurred to me that it was possible that something might happen to Bubba and I. I chose not to tell the girls that we would be away for two nights while they were gone because I knew it would only stress them out. (Who will take care of the animals? What if I need you?) So, whether it is that karma coming back to bite me in the ass, or simply the imaginings of an over-enmeshed mother, I don’t know, but images of plane crashes and earthquakes kept slicing through my thoughts last night.
I grabbed Bubba and made him promise to call his sister this morning and tell her to get the kids and bring them home if something happened to us. I contemplated writing them long letters full of love and hope and promise “just in case.” I began envisioning their utter confusion giving way to hurt as they realized we had lied to them and left home.
And the friendly angel on my other shoulder keeps whispering in my ear that I am no more likely to get hurt away from home than I am at home. She strokes my head and says that there is no law or moral code that says I have to stay home alone and hold down the fort just because they are away. It is really no different than them being at school all day or on an overnight at a friend’s house. Why should I have to stay here?
Logically, that makes sense and I love this little sweetie for telling me. But what I keep bumping up against is this: I was okay when the girls left because I don’t mind being left, but the thought that I might be the one doing the leaving is nearly unbearable. If I stay home, I’m not “leaving” anyone behind. If I go with Bubba, especially without telling the girls, I’m the one doing the leaving. And if I don’t come back for some reason, it’s my fault. I have abandoned them. And if there is anything I have ever been more frightened of in my life, I can’t name it. I cannot abide the thought that I might be responsible for abandoning someone who needs me. Period.
Clearly, I have more work to do here. And, fortunately or unfortunately, I think the first step is to pack my stuff, get on that airplane and head out with Bubba, if only to prove to myself that my fears are mere clouds of black smoke. There is some small kernel inside that truly believes everything will be fine and I will arrive home well before the girls, relaxed and happy to have had this time with my husband. ‘Scuse me while I go nurture that seed…


1. Find yourself an incredibly talented singer/songwriter like Edie Carey who is coming to your area and is willing to do a house concert.

2. Send out a “Save the Date” notification to all your friends and family.

3. Two weeks before the concert, send out reminders and begin panicking that things won’t go as well as you want them to.

4. One week prior to the date, ratchet up the panic as a few people cancel and send out emails to the rest, telling them to invite their friends.

5. Get a friend to put together a lovely case of wine for your guests and count your wine glasses.

6. Have Bubba prep the smoker, make his famous rub and BBQ sauce and buy two enormous slabs o’ pork shoulder.

7. Pick up your oldest, dearest friend from the train station the day before the concert and confide your fears (the “I’m having a party and nobody’s going to come” variety) to her while she commiserates and helps you set everything up.

8. The night before the concert, massage Bubba’s rub into the pork and smoke it for twelve hours over some hickory chips.

9. The day of the concert, spend hours catching up with your friend, sporadically setting up chairs and furniture and utensils and wine glasses.

10. As your guests stream in the door, realize that this night is going to ROCK!

11. Pour yourself a glass of wine, watch everyone congregate around the spread of food and listen to the conversation fill up the kitchen.

12. Call everyone to the living room where you introduce Edie and watch her captivate everyone, young and old, male and female, with her humor, her musical talent, and her genuine-ness. Revel in the fact that you are getting to share your love of her music with an entire group of people you care about. Hear them laugh at her jokes, sing along in perfect harmony, and enthusiastically cheer her performance while outside, the dogs and some kids are playing in the yard (except when your dog peeks in the window to whine along with the music.)

13. Say goodnight to your guests, secure in the knowledge that each and every one of them had a terrific time.

14. Make a cursory effort to tidy up but end up leaving most of it for the next morning.

15. Collapse into bed and feel incredibly blessed to have shared such a wonderful evening with some really special people.

If you haven’t listened to Edie Carey’s music, I can’t say enough about it. Her songs grab me because they are so real, the themes so universal. Her voice has an incredible tone and she is a whiz on that guitar! I have seen her perform live three times and each time I am struck at her ability to perform. She speaks to the audience as an honest, genuine human being. She tells stories, both in and around her songs, and she is engaging and connected to the people she is singing for. Go visit her website and look up her tour schedule. Find her somewhere near you and go listen. You will be enchanted. I promise.