It’s not easy to leave this life with absolutely no regrets. Regrets come with the territory of living, because we all make mistakes (thanks, Hannah Montana.) But most of us have a wish to arrive at the end of our lives – whenever that may be – having lived a full and good life – whatever that may look like. That success will look different for everyone, but eventually, we will leave this earth.
Your view of the afterlife can dictate how you decide to live your life. Those who believe in nothing after death may live their life as if this is it – if this is all we have, might as well have fun. Some live every day like its their last, which can lead to some questionable life decisions. Others live as though this life is not all, that there is something unseen that we will arrive at once we shuffle off this mortal coil.
I’ve tried to balance “live every day like it’s your last” and “plan your future.” It’s a hard dichotomy to balance between. I’ve found a happy medium in living each day with fullness. Everyday is different, but I want to be fully present in every day – because honestly, I don’t know when my last breath will be. It’s not a thought I dwell on, because it distracts from the now.
In short, I hope that when I wrap up this life, I’ll have no hard feelings.
Day 24: No Hard Feelings – Manchester Orchestra
Full disclosure, this song is actually a cover by Manchester Orchestra (one of my absolute favorite bands.) It’s originally by The Avett Brothers, but sometimes covers are better than the originals. I’m just going to put that out there.
For me, I think it’s the quality of frontman Andy Hull’s voice. It has a mellow, laid-back tone that I often appreciate in vocalists. I do have an affinity for gentle synth as well, which some of Manchester’s newer tracks include – a happy marriage of chill folk and EDM, without much of the D. (Get your head out of the gutter.)
What I love most about Manchester’s cover is the synth bed has an old school organ-type quality to it. And not the bombastic, choir-of-angels organ that has its place, but the mellow, 70s-type. It lends itself perfectly to this track.
Second, during the chorus, Hull’s voice is joined by a disembodied choir that sound a bit like an echo – as though you’re hearing choral practice from the back of a huge cathedral. The song sets the aesthetic early on – we’re going to be tackling some of life’s biggest questions.
The first verse asks the first of those questions: Will I be ready?
When my body won’t hold me anymore
And it finally lets me free
Will I be ready?
When my feet won’t walk another mile
And my lips give their last kiss goodbye
Will my hands be steady?
When I lay down my fears, my hopes, and my doubts
The rings on my fingers and the keys to my house
With no hard feelings?
Will you be ready to exit this life when the time comes? Honestly, we don’t know when that time is. It could be tomorrow, or fifty years from today. So can you ever be ready to leave the only thing you’ve ever known? Sometimes it’s hard to say.
“No hard feelings” is usually what we say after someone apologizes for doing wrong by you. And even if you say it, you might still have hard feelings. What about when life does us wrong? I think we all want to exit this life having lived long and lived well. But look around you. That doesn’t always happen. So will we be able to accept what life gives to us with no hard feelings?
When the sun hangs low in the west
And the light in my chest won’t be kept
At bay any longer
When the jealousy fades away
And it’s ash and dust for casual lust
And it’s just hallelujah
And love in thoughts, and love in words
And love in the songs that they sing in church
With no hard feelings
In the end, none of it matters – our jealousy, our lust, our pain. Because we’ll be taken beyond that in the end. It will just be “hallelujah,” and we’ll finally fully understand what those songs in church meant, and why we needed them.
Lord knows they haven’t done
Much good for anyone
Kept me afraid and cold
So much to have and hold
I think this chorus is telling us that it’s not worth holding onto those hard feelings. Hard feelings can make us a hard person. I mean, think about it. You’ve seen elderly people who seem to be bitter about absolutely everything, and elderly people who are abundantly thankful for their life. At some point in their life, they made a choice – to be defined by their circumstances (whatever they may be) or to rise above them. I think you can determine who is the former and who is the latter.
All of my grandparents lived full lives and died in their later years. My first grandma died of cancer in her later sixties when I was six. I wish I could have known her better, because her and I would have been kindred spirits. She never let her cancer conquer her. She held my father’s hand as she died and expressed one more time how much she loved him. That’s how I want to go – quietly, surrounded by my family.
My second grandma died when I was nine and she was almost eighty. Her and grandpa had just celebrated fifty years of marriage, but she had lost her life and her memory to Alzheimer’s. I could still tell that even though Lorraine was leaving, the love she had for people was still there. She gave me a wonderful mother and many fond memories.
Both of my grandfathers had slightly different stories. They were both fairly belligerent, especially in their later lives after their wives died (I don’t blame them – losing a life partner after decades of being together is one of the most tragic things in this life.) They made the choice to be bitter, to kick and scream and push their family away during their later years. Thankfully, they were humbled at the time of their deaths. They both died within a year of each other, surrounded by family, and their souls were carried to Heaven. With no hard feelings.
That brings me to the second question this song asks – where will I go?
When my body won’t hold me anymore
And it finally lets me free
Where will I go?
Will the trade winds take me south
Through Georgia grain, or tropical rain,
Or snow from the heavens?
Will I join the ocean blue
Or run into the Savior true
And shake hands laughing
And walk through the night, straight to the light
Holding the love I’ve known in my life
With no hard feelings?
These verses play out as long questions. And it makes sense. These are big questions. Will I go here, or there, or there? Will this happen, or this, or this? It’s only human to wonder these things, because we don’t know what death is like until we experience it, and when it’s done, we can’t really tell anyone about it.
The song wraps up by telling us, in summary, that living is the best way to combat these fears, hopes, and doubts. We should let these hard feelings go before our body lets us go. Easier said than done, but still true.
Under the curving sky
I’m finally learning why
It matters to me and you
To say it and mean it too
For life and its loveliness
And all of its ugliness
As good as its been to me
I have no enemies
I have no enemies
I have no enemies
This part of the song seems to slowly reach upward, like a cresting wave. It’s the moment of clarity amongst the doubts leading up to it. It’s best to make peace with life while you’re living it instead of when it’s too late. And when you “say it and mean it too,” I think the song is telling us that we need to tell the people in our lives we love them – and mean it.
Then you can reach the end of your life and know you meant it. All of it.
Audrey D. DeBoer 