Rock & Roll Is Dead: Goodbye Nancy

To readers this story is centered around the death of a beloved matriarch.

Stepping outside of myself to splash water on my face. Standing in front of the nearby hand washing sink. I won’t go back into myself. The voice of doubt sings ever so gently. Causing my nerves to dance to its melody. Its voice echoes through my body. The vibration bouncing off my aura. Making the hair on my back do the wave. My roadie hands me a joint. I rip it to calm my nerves. The stage manager asks if I’m ready.

“Vince, are you ready? It’s time.”

“VINCENT! Wake up, you gotta get ready! We’re leaving in an hour, capicse?”

     Vincent stirred in his sanctuary under the covers. Thinking he called back out to his father. Only to realize he didn’t when the door to his room bursted open.

“Ragazzo, I thought I told you to get up. I will not be late for my mother’s funeral. Get the fuck out of bed now!”

     Vincent shot up and acknowledged his fathers urgent request. Getting the sleep out of his eyes. He moved to sit on the edge of his bed. Vincent didn’t reflect the ambience of emptiness and sadness. That entered his room now that his door was opened. His inner peace burned brightly. He thought to himself though it’s sad nonna’s gone. He felt in a way she was still around. She had deep compassion and undying love. Her spirits were high, he thought. Even when she was on her deathbed. He shied away to preserve the memory of who she was. Not what she became upon her death.

     Though his nonna would visit around the holidays. Until she got ill, which comes with old age. Nonna last Christmas brought Vincent his current acoustic. Almost nine months to the day was the last time he saw her. Stepping out of the shower he looked around the bathroom. Stepping into the hallway he looked around again. Rushing into his room, he found the source of nonna’s perfume. 

     Though there was no air flow. His curtain was swaying as if it were dancing. Footsteps rushed up the stairs. Suddenly both Vincent’s parents were in the threshold to his room. His mother had tears in her eyes.

“Victor, I can smell her perfume. It’s like she's here.”

“Vince, how's your curtain moving like that?”

     Both his parents with streams of tears were in full embrace. Vincent calmly was putting on his tie. Speaking through one voice while he walked over and hugged his parents.

“It’s prolly cause nonna was here. I’ll miss her being present but she’s not gone.”

     The three of them hugged amidst the sorrow. Internally Vincent was silent as not a thought went by. Though no inner turbulence, his heart did weep. The now blue family went down the stairs. Briskly they left in haste to bury the deceased matriarch. During the ride Vincent put in headphones. The music of choice was nonna’s favorite, Joni Mitchell’s Blue. Her emotionally impactful lyrics paired with incendiary melodies. Brought out the feelings he didn’t know how to articulate. Turning to the window he nonchalantly wiped a tear from his eye. 

“Vinny bambino mio you have the same heart as your nonno. You look so much like him, and have his mannerisms too.”

     He responded to his nonna’s voice by putting his face in his hands. His nonarticulatable feelings are now coming out of himself. Thanks to the enigmatic power of Joni Mithcell’s Blue. Before Vincent could compose himself they were in the parking lot of his nonna’s church St. Mary’s Catholic congregation. Putting away the headphones and turning off his phone as he got out. The parking lot was full he thought as he snuck a hit of his pen. It relieved him to know others felt the same way he did about his nonna.

     Upon entering the cathedral. Vincent walked behind his parents. Dissociating while looking at the decor and arrangements. Apropos to listening to his father drone on about the disdain and contempt he held for nonno. He waited back by the entrance to the pews. Admiring all the pictures set in honor of his nonna. The memory of him as a little boy with her. How she would lift him up and sing “Make Me Lose Control”. Recalling them singing it together. Vincent was so young would instead say twah la loop. The actual lyrics being turn the radio up. Which appear in the song's chorus. Shaking off the memory before he turned to tears. He quickly signed the ledger and made haste to the pews. 

     Still vibing to the song he would sing with his nonna. He caught up to his parents. His father was still pissing and moaning about seeing his dad. An elderly gentleman touched the right arm of Vincent's Father for his attention. While they were ascending the aisle towards their seat. 

“It’s good to see you Viccy. It’s been awhile since any of the boys yas. About twelve years.”

     Vincent's father kept walking with little to no acknowledgement. Murmuring under his breath. He was a man with a family. 

“If it wasn’t my mother’s funeral, la minchia.”

     Instantly Vincent’s father grabs and pulls him forward. Wrestling himself free Vincent turned. There he was his nonno. A rather short slender elderly man. Vincent walked over to him looking him in the eyes. He stood stoically with a warm presence and gentle eyes. 

“Nunziata was right, I’ll be damned. Junior, how do you look the kid in the face?” 

     Looking back at his father. Vincent was slightly appalled to see his dad rolling his eyes. Vincent's mother brushed past both of them and gave Victor Sr. a deep hug.

“Poppa, I miss her, so. She was so wonderful. We used to talk nightly before she got sick. When she would visit. Nancy was the light in all of us. Only when it’s about you is Vic hard to deal with.”

     While in his embrace Victor Sr. spoke to her through one voice.

“Bella mio Sophia, she's in the vibrations of love and happiness. She’s not gone as long as you feel those emotions. My Nunziata she’ll be there. Viccy is always gonna be a pain in the ass. Does he take his feelings for me out on Vince? Nancy said he was me made over.”

     Vincent as he took a seat. Watching his mother and nonno embrace. Over the loss of his nonna. Hearing his mother giggle as she shook her head no. Vincent’s father sat next to him putting his right arm around his shoulders. Vincent leaned in inquiring about the guy that called him a kid. His father sighed and told him it was his godfather Pete Delfinni. Citing him as his father’s best friend. His mother took the spot in between Victor Sr. and Vincent. Shortly after her seat the Father took up the altar. Beginning the service in wake of Nancy Vibrazione’s passing. Throughout the service Vincent kept peering at his nonno. He tried not to watch, though he was captivated by his mother’s smile. Thinking it had faded since the passing of his nonna. While the sermon carried on like usual. Vincent’s mind began to wander. After he lost the melody to Make Me Lose Control. Another groove caught him. Angel by Hendrix soothed the misery. As it lifted his heart into his spirit. To which Vincent hummed the words to cast its spell. 

“And I said “Fly on my sweet angel. Fly on through the sky. Fly on my sweet angel. Tomorrow I’m gonna be by your side.”

     Unbeknownst to Vincent he was being watched by his nonno. Victor Sr. observed and listened to his grandson. Then nudge the sombering Sophia. Whispering how stunned to see that Vincent has the vibe. 

“The boy has a free spirit, huh? I pray to God he doesn't lose it like Viccy did. Please lord hear my prayer.”

     Sophia wiped her tears and let out a deep breath. She grabbed Vincent’s right hand with her left. With her right grabbed Victor Sr’s left. Whispering back to Victor Sr. that she’ll bridge the energy between them. Vincent’s father peered down the pew to his wife. Thoughts and memories filled his heart. Which took up arms against the hurt and sadness. That dwelled within him coping with the loss of his mother. His eyes began to well up. As his heart became heavy. In response he pulled Vincent closer to him. Understanding his father’s heartache Vincent didn’t fight it. Instead escaping through the vibration of Clapton’s Let It Rain. Sophia heard Vincent mumbling the tune and began to sway. Clapton had been her favorite since she was a young girl. Victor Sr. picked up the vibe and began tapping on his legs to keep time. Then Victor nudged his son asking him to quit.

“Behave boy it’s your nonna’s, my mother’s funeral. Reel your shit in.”

     He looked over his wife into his father’s eyes. Expressing how he thought it was his doing somehow. Victor Sr. softened his eyes now in the attention of his son. Smiling brightly Victor Sr. nodded and winked. Victor in scorn turned his gaze back to the father behind the altar. Victor Sr. called him a tight ass under his breath. Whispering in Sophia’s ear how he missed the days when Viccy was a daddy’s boy.

“The road, she’s a cruel woman. When he showed up. Me and the boys took two years off touring. Man, we couldn't get enough of each other. Then she called again, the first tour back. I’ll never forget it. He could barely talk and stood there yelling “No daddy please no go”! He’s hated me ever since.”

     He sat there in silence the remainder of the service. Simply observing the place where his heart was supposed to be. Everyone began to rise to see Nunziata Vibrazione before she was to be laid to rest. Victor Sr. sat and watched everyone pay their respects to his beloved wife. As the line waned he got up to pay his last respects. Finally by her side for the last time. Victor Sr.’ s stoic virtues broke, his tears fell like rain. Speaking through one voice to his soulmate.

“Belladonna tornerò hai di cuore. You’re officially on the road. You left me to wait for you now. Yet you always forget something when ya leave, don't cha baby? You forgot to give me back my heart. Eh, it’s always belonged to you anyways. My hippie queen, the muse, my sunshine day dream.”

     He kissed her on the forehead. Turning around he began to sing loud enough to catch the echo of the cathedral. Victor Sr.’s voice carried all the way into the parking lot. Singing through one voice. His heart was wide open. 

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Tearing yourself away from me now you are free. And now I’m crying. This do I, I do that’s forever. Yes and for always. I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are. You make it hard. Something inside is telling me I've got your secret. Are you still listening? Fear is the lock and laughter the key to your heart. I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are. And you make it hard. And you make it hard. And you make it hard!”