Billy Joe

I have found, especially the older I get, that I deal with grief best through words on paper. I can talk, hug, cry. But to really work my way through it, I need to write. Just listened to a podcast about that very thing, about working your way all the way though emotion, and I need to get those emotions out. Losing Billy Joe Shaver last week is no exception.

I was out of town on a business trip, not in the traditional sense. Our trip is usually to Seattle for nearly a week to gather with HVAC companies from all over the US to share our work worlds and do our business planning for the year. Our consultants have always been adamant that it’s best to get away from the office, to allow fewer interruptions and allow better focus. This year we had a virtual conference, our team rented a condo in Gruene, TX and worked on multiple screens in our living room with those in Seattle and all across the country. I was with four people I spend my workdays with, people who are also really good friends.

It was 10:58 Wednesday morning when I got a text from my friend Angie in Round Rock.

“Saw the news about Shaver’s namesake. I know how much you love him. So much loss this year. Last two years. I love you, my friend.”

I was speechless.  I took my phone over to my facebook app. There it was.

Gut punch.

I know. It all makes sense in my head. 81 years old. Stroke. Reunited in heaven with his son Eddy and wife Brenda. We all have the same ultimate ending. He loved Jesus so he’s golden. He’s not your best friend or your dad. It’s more painful for others. Yeah yeah, sure sure – all of that.  But it doesn’t mean the heart feels any better about it. Damn.

Billy Joe Shaver and his music were a part of our lives before we really even knew his name. He wrote songs that others recorded as we were growing up. It wasn’t long after Andy and I got together, we learned who this singer songwriter was and began going to see him perform. Best I can figure, that’s been for the last 30 years or so.

With the onset of the internet, we joined a “yahoo group” of fans of Billy Joe. It was here we met people from all over the US, nope, let me correct that, all over the world, from all walks of life, who had one common love of a honky-tonk hero. This community shared other loves of music, their ups and downs, had their fights and making up, their lives, their worlds. These people became my friends, and then became my family. People from all over the world. We laughed, learned, fought, shared. We all changed each others’ lives. Mostly for the better I’d say.

We gathered together at shows. We still gather together for any excuse we can find. We all mourned together the loss of Billy’s son Eddy. We watched as Billy Joe fought hard to even have the will to keep living. Our group put together two scrapbooks of love and memories, and put together a birthday bash weekend to celebrate him and celebrate with him. People came to Dallas from all over the country. Our children played together. Our children hugged him and treated him as if he were a beloved grandparent, and he responded in like. We saw Kinky Friedman grab him for a joint tour, just to help his friend keep going. Kinky never tooted his own horn about it, but we all knew. And for that, we’ll always be grateful. We needed Billy Joe here a little longer.

I can’t count the number of times we saw Billy Joe in concert, and before the shows and after the shows. Sometimes the kindest and sweetest, sometimes a bit cantankerous. But most importantly, human. And if you listen, listen really closely to his songs and words, whether serious or funny, love song or story, they are human. Perfectly flawed human, just like the rest of us. He tells our stories. He told our stories.

This morning, on CBS This Morning, as they listed who passed away recently, Billy Joe’s music played in the background, and they showed two photos of him – one younger and one more recent. Yes, I cried yet again. Bittersweet tears. It’s gonna sting for a while, not having him on this side with us. But I am grateful, so, so grateful, to have had the experiences, the friendships, the music, the stories, my world being better because of a wild singer / songwriter from Coriscana who fought his way through his own life to make mine a little brighter. That’s how I see it anyway. He will “Live Forever” through a lot of us.

Rest easy Billy Joe. Rest easy.