Hey, Kurt

Kurt Cobain is the #1 hero and main musical influence of my life. He is the reason I picked up the guitar.

One year ago on the 25th anniversary of his passing-I took a pilgrimage. To see him. My friend. To see where it happened. To grieve. And to place a hand on young me’s wounded chest again. There was a score to settle, and I wasn’t prepared for how intense and overwhelming being there would be.

I wrote him a letter on the plane ride up-a trick you learn in grief therapy. As a 16yr old-his passing jarred me to the bone. Another betrayal. Spread hopelessness within me like a cancer. While writing-I rediscovered the anger surrounding how he passed, and the guilt I had for being angry at him for leaving.

Glad to stay with Andy and his family up there. A good friend I knew well in the old days, we have that bond that exists between people who’ve grieved some of the same losses. The knowing. Buoyed by the laughs and old stories, glad he could play tour guide.

So through eyes that couldn’t see-I read what I wrote out loud at Kurt’s bench, finally said what I and young me needed to say. Then left it with the others.

It was SO heavy being in the park adjacent to his old house. Surreal. Nobody said much, it was dead quiet. Just me and Andy there. They tore down the greenhouse he died in years ago. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen footage of that property or heard about the bench Kurt used to sit on. It’s taken awhile to talk about all this. I hid it pretty well from everybody for a long time, the damage. I was afraid of the ridicule, of being seen as weak, or of being misunderstood💔

But I am not ashamed of you. Thank you for your gift, old friend. I miss you. I’m sorry you had to go and I wish you were still here.❤️I hope it’s peaceful wherever you are.

#kurtcobain #virettapark #pilgramage #nirvana #seattle #aberdeen #nevermind