Dear Alejandro,

I have never written a love letter to a songwriter before, but here I am.  You need to know that your songs saved my life.  You need to know that your words helped me get through the incredibly hard days when I first lost my seventeen year old son.  You need to know that even now, three years later, your music is what I turn to when my heart needs to remember or needs to be lifted.  This is why I love you.

My son Luke passed away on April 14, 2015.  I am grateful that a friend of ours had introduced us to your music before then, and Dearly Departed was already a favorite song of mine.  I know you didn’t write the lyrics about losing a loved one, but when we were selecting songs to play at Luke’s wake I knew I wanted that song.  More than 1000 people came that evening and it took everything I had to stay strong.  Every time those opening beats of Dearly Departed would come over the speakers, I would look down the long line of people and that song would fill me with the energy to get through.  Dearly Departed and losing Luke are forever entwined for me, but in the most positive of ways.  “You and I both know that the house is haunted; You and I both know that the ghost is me”

Luke rests easy just down the road from our house at the town cemetery.  It has become my daily ritual to walk there.   The first time I went down, I pulled on my sneakers, grabbed my phone, and plugged in my headphones.  I went to Pandora and made myself a Shakey Graves station and the universe went to work.  Family and Genus spoke to me first.  Forgive me all of my interpretations, but it was like you wrote this song walking to a cemetery yourself.  “Where, where we will wait for friends and family to pass away or come in handy.”  But it was the bit at the end – the recording of the one girl asking her friend questions – that really got me.  The responses are just so typical of what Luke Inwood might say that it made me smile and took my breath away.

“What are your plans for the future?  I don’t have any.

You don’t have any plans at all? No.

Would you like to go to college? No.

Would you like to go to business school? Laughs – No.

Do you have a nickname? Well, sometimes people call me things, but I’d rather not say. :)”

I could go on for every song of yours I know.  Business Lunch had much the same effect as Family and Genus.  There is this bit at the beginning of these young men talking to one another and it reminds me of when the lads would gather here and play ping pong and a joy- filled “Oh, DUDE” would come flying up the stairs.   Hardwired makes me think about how Luke came into this world with his demons – his anxiety and his mental illness, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t escape it.  “Cause I am as I came, and I’ll still be the same, I’ve got nothing to blame, I was hardwired.”

Only Son; If Not For You; The Perfect Parts; Roll the Bones – each of these songs takes me to a moment walking up and down the well worn path I have created between our house and King Luke.  It seems the universe has always sent me the song I needed at just the right time.  Some days I need to cry.  Some days they have made me angry and curse.  Most days it’s like your melodies grab hold of my heart and say Well ,well, let me pick you up and carry you a bit.  And for that I am forever grateful.

Let me end with Unlucky Skin/ Built to Roam.  THIS SONG.  Luke’s life was just.so.hard. and my husband and I spoke often about how it shouldn’t be that hard to be seventeen years old.  But it was for him. Every little bit and this idea that maybe he had been born into unlucky skin really spoke to me.  How, if you believe this, the universe puts you here and for some people, the circumstances you are put in are not that great.  How death might be a blessing.

Think of me often
Loosen my coffin
Let all the bugs in my wooden home

Ooh
Won’t be long till I belong
Without all of this unlucky skin

And so Alejandro, I ask you to please forgive a bereaved mama her ramblings.  Just know they come from the heart and if some day we are to meet, I will pour us both a drink, tell you the story of Luke Inwood, and help you sing these songs that heal me.

With Love and Gratitude,

Patty Inwood

To tell you about the Memory Jar I have to take you back a bit.  You need to know that Jeff Wlodarczak (or Thad depending on when you met him in life) and Luke had been friends since fourth grade.  They really solidified their relationship a year later as they discovered a mutual appreciation for class antics, agitating Mrs. Atlas, and playing football.  Over the next eight years, Luke spent a lot of time with Jeff and his family and the Wlodarczak house was like a second home for him.  It was certainly his favorite party location. 🙂

Berkeley is Jeff’s sister.  Not only did she have one knucklehead younger sibling to contend with, she also had Luke.  Thankfully, Berks is one of those together, chill young ladies you dream about raising, and she easily handled Luke’s teasing and shenanigans.  When Luke passed away, Berkeley took all her Wlodarczak love and poured it into the wake.  Jodi and Berks did so much, but the memory jar was the most perfect idea.

I’m not sure who first told me Berkeley was making a memory jar.  ‘It’s so people can write down their favorite memory of Luke’ someone explained.  I thought it was a nice idea, but I think my fog made it impossible for me to really think about what it was or whether or not I would even like it.  Turns out it was incredibly healing, not just for me, but for the writers.  During the wake, as people waited in line, they would come to the spot of the memory jar.  It was a large, decorated mason jar and there were small slips of paper to record a few words.  Just enough words.  By the end of the evening, the memory jar was filled to the top with folded pieces of paper.  We didn’t open them just then.  The night had been long and we were not emotionally in a place to read them.

The memory jar came home with us and sat on the dining room table until late into the night of Luke’s Irish Funeral.  I’m not going to lie, friends, I was a few adult beverages in, I was sad, and the jar was calling my name.  I sat down at the table and unscrewed the lid.  One by one I removed and read the tiny pieces of love that people had left us.  I was so touched that each one shared a story or an anecdote that the writer felt best captured Luke or their relationship to Luke.  I laughed, I sobbed.  My heart swelled with gratitude.

“Your mandles made me cringe, but you rocked the sh#t out of those shades.  Love you bro.”

“When Luke was a freshman I had to beg him to stop talking in class.  One day we made a deal – if he would be quiet I would rap 99 problems by JayZ.  He won – I rapped.”

“Our English teacher got a phone call and turned and told Luke his notebook was in the office.  He replied – I haven’t had a notebook since September.  It was March.”

And my favorite –

“He was a f*cker, but he was OUR f*cker”

Even now, this makes me smile.  Don’t get me wrong, there were a bunch of heartfelt sentiments in that jar, but these slips just captured Luke’s personality and impact in a way nothing else could.  And for that, Miss Berkeley Wlodarczak, I thank you. <3

So here’s what I need you to know:  If today is your Day 1 or maybe your One Year Anniversary, you need a Memory Jar.  Give people a chance to stop and reflect and carefully write down the words that best describe what they thought of your child.  This is such a unique way to keep your child’s spirit alive and on my saddest days I love to go into Luke’s room and reread all of the comments.  It has become our permanent record that says He was Here, He Made People Laugh, He Was Loved.  That jar was everything.  Xxx