I'll See You In My Dreams

Tuesday, June 6, 2023 Entry #119

My mom (see Entry #118 ) took a turn for the worse in late May, and I was by her side nearly around the clock for the last week of her life. Along with the rest of her immediate family, I was with my mom when she passed away on the evening of June 3rd. She was a great, accomplished, and loving person who made a permanent and positive impact on me that cannot be overstated. Mom had made it clear over the last few years that she wanted me to officiate her eventual funeral. So, on this day, grieving son was not to be my only role. I was also the rabbi responsible for leading a ceremony of honor and remembrance for my mom and provide a measure of strength and comfort for her legions of mourners. It was a difficult, but incredibly sacred task.

Near the end of the funeral service, I talked about a recent conversation I had with my mom. I also referenced the Bruce Springsteen concert my family had been planning on bringing my mom to later this summer based on her heartfelt request (See Entry #118).

“A week ago or so, and seemingly out of nowhere, mom told me something and I transcribed it exactly as she said it.  “When you, Stephan and Jodi were little, I used to come into your rooms every night and tell you a story about your day, the people you were with, and the experiences you had. As you grew, I stopped doing it in person, but I kept on telling stories about your days to myself so I could stay close to you. I based those stories on what we had done together, what you did without me that you shared, as well as what was in my imagination. Now, you are 59 years old, Stephan is eternal (my brother pre-deceased my mom in 2018), and Jodi is 53. I want you to know that I have never stopped, and I will never stop, telling myself stories about your days. Then she smiled, which was a bit harder to come by in her last months, but it was so rewarding and holy when you got one.

Mom, now it is our turn to tell you the stories of our days. For example, I will tell you stories from Zoey and Sterling’s wedding, Gabe’s college graduation, and Sylvi’s bat mitzvah, all happening next year. We will tell you the story of the Bruce Springsteen concert we hoped we would take you to at Wrigley Field this August. Mom, we will tell you those stories every night, and that way we’ll see you in our dreams.”

The notion of my mom telling us stories of our days at our bedtimes, and the idea of us now carrying that on for her, brought to my mind and heart Bruce Springsteen’s 2020 song “I’ll See You In My Dreams.” So, I decided to sing that song of moving forward from loss with love, remembrance, and dedication for my mom after revealing her nightly ritual.

I choked up at the phrase, “all the books that you read…” because her many books were so important to my mom. She wanted to know to the end that they were still in the storage we brought them to when she had to move to assisted living, and after mom died, each of us carefully selected from her collection the books that would most evoke for us her essence.

After that, I began to receive messages from all kinds of people who found Bruce Springsteen lyrics moving while confronting tremendous losses. I saw social media posts by other folks who played “I’ll See You In My Dreams” at the funerals of loved ones. The analogy that occurred to me is of the 150 biblical psalms, which contain poetry-some theorize that they were actually song lyrics -that encompass the range of human experiences, including joy, awe, fear, and loss. Springsteen, too, has composed songs that can serve to accompany our array of lived moments-celebration, reflection, abandon, commitment, community, empathy, and mourning. As has been noted, Springsteen’s 2020 album Letter To You carries an underlying theme of responding to mortality, and many of the song choices (from all points of Springsteen’s career) on this latest tour address that difficult but cathartic topic (See Entry #11 and Entry #22). Over the course of the concerts, Springsteen makes it clear that he has resolved to keep mightily counting in the band and “rocking his audiences into the ground” as long as he possibly can, and that he’ll do so in large part as a tribute to the fallen.

Springsteen comes to this sensibility honestly, as he sat for hours with his dear friends E Streeter Clarence Clemons and George Theiss from his very first band (the death of Theiss is the primary subject of at least three Letter To You songs, including “I’ll See You In My Dreams” itself) during their final days. Springsteen’s own mother Adele passed away in early 2024, and he was very attentive to her as she aged and suffered from Alzheimer’s Disease (to be covered in a later post). All of this seems to make Springsteen and his songs a comforting companion to mourners.

In an essay published in the Today Show website, Sharon Waters wrote:

“At my first show on this Springsteen tour, five months after my mom died, I discovered that a rock concert with 18,000 strangers was more therapeutic for my grief than a counselor’s couch…With a set list heavy on loss and legacy, but also optimism and endurance, Springsteen concerts have been teaching me about death, and how to heal.”

Melinda Newman had this to say in a piece in Billboard:

“This tour includes a reflection on mortality, but also on resilience and joy. Though he’s never spoken of death and the gift it brings the living from the stage so eloquently before, it’s understood by fans. For example, after my mother died, I consoled myself by going to as many shows as I could on the consecutive Magic (2007-08) and Working on a Dream (2009) tours, because standing in the pit of a Springsteen show was where I felt most alive.”

On this tour, Springsteen addresses death directly while introducing his solo acoustic performance of “Last Man Standing.” The monologue changes a bit from concert to concert, but after he talks about being the sole survivor of his first rock band (“It’s like you’re standing on the tracks with the white-hot light of an oncoming train bearing down on you.”), below is an example of how he proceeds:

“As you get older, death is just a part of life. The grief that we feel when our loved ones leave us is just the price we pay for having loved well. Death’s lasting gift to the living is it gives you an expanded vision of this life. It makes you realize how important living every moment of every day is. At 15, it’s all tomorrow and hellos, and then later on, there’s a lot more good-byes. Death helps you know how important living every moment of every day is. You get only one shot at life. So be good to those you love, be good to yourself, and be good to the world we all live in. “

I’ll See You In My Dreams by Bruce Springsteen

The road is long and seeming without end
The days go on, I remember you my friend
And though you're gone and my heart's been emptied it seems
I'll see you in my dreams

I got your guitar here by the bed
All your favorite records and all the books that you read
And though my soul feels like it's been split at the seams
I'll see you in my dreams

I'll see you in my dreams
When all our summers have come to an end
I'll see you in my dreams
We'll meet and live and laugh again
I'll see you in my dreams
Yeah, up around the river bend
For death is not the end
And I'll see you in my dreams

Mom. I see you in my dreams. Rest in peace.

(For a reflection on Springsteen’s use of “summer” as metaphor in “See You In My Dreams,”, see the last paragraphs in Entry #41)