Showing posts with label George Harrison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George Harrison. Show all posts

Thursday, November 29, 2012

George Harrison's Friends


If you’ve read this blog for any length of time you already know I’m a huge Beatles fan. What I didn’t expect was that they’d actually give me something to write about here, something important about grieving your friends.

Today is the eleventh anniversary of the death of George Harrison. It’s also the tenth anniversary of The Concert for George, a superstar musical event produced by his friends in his memory. You can watch it all day today on the George Harrison YouTube channel.

What struck me the most about that concert film – and the emotional documentary Living in the Material World – was the willingness of his friends to talk about their love for George.

In the former, Eric Clapton freely admits that putting the concert together was a way to work through his grief – a way for most everyone involved to work through their grief.

In the latter, the impact of George’s death was felt deeply by all who spoke, but perhaps most surprisingly by former race car driver Jackie Stewart. He talks about how he’d lost a lot of friends in his race career – watched many of them die – but no death had affected him, even ten years later, like George’s.

So, here are some links for you. Enjoy the music (I’ve included the music video of one of my favorite George Harrison solo efforts, “Got My Mind Set On You”). Watch the concert and look at this scene from the documentary, where Ringo recounts his last minutes with George. When it’s over, you’ll probably have the same two reactions I had:

What a good friend he was.

I hope my friends think the same of me.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, June 8, 2012

What Do You Grieve When You Grieve Your Friend?

Serenading people on line in Central Park
That was not a stupid question.

The simplest, most basic answer is that you grieve that they are physically gone from this world. Whether you believe in heaven or reincarnation or another consciousness after death, you still mourn their loss.

But what else do you grieve?

Maybe you found out about their death much later, so you missed the funeral.

Maybe you two weren’t speaking, and so were never able to settle your differences and part one last time as friends.

Maybe you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

Maybe you never told them you loved them.

Maybe you were too embarrassed to tell them how they changed your life.

Maybe you didn’t get a chance to help them when they were dying.

You might call these regrets. You might be consumed by the ‘what if’s’.

I wrote last summer about the stark differences in the musical tributes Paul McCartney offered in his concert. One, full of affection for George Harrison, proved that they’d been able to express their love and appreciation for their long friendship. The other, full of regret, left you with the pain he felt at not expressing his feelings to John Lennon.

You can’t change what happened between you and the friend who died. But you can affect the friendships you still have. It might scare them – and you – but take a moment to tell them how much you appreciate them.

The night before his heart surgery, a friend told me I was on the short list of people to call if something “went bad”. We’d had a long, very complicated, difficult (at times) relationship, but we’ve been on good terms for years now, and I fell apart on the phone.

He was surprised by my reaction. “Why are you upset? I knew you’d be more pissed off if you weren’t on the list.” That was true, and we both laughed about it. But for the first time in decades, when we hung up the phone that night, I told him I loved him. After a moment, and with a catch in his voice, he told me he loved me, too.

You don’t have to write a long letter, or pour out your heart. Just a quick “God, you’re annoying, but I love you anyway” or “I don’t know what I’d do without you” is probably enough, and more than they’ll expect. You won’t scare anyone that way.

So this weekend, give it a shot. The first one will probably be the hardest, but after that, you’ll get the hang of it.

Which song would you prefer?

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Friends Grieving for George Harrison

George Harrison's birthday was a few days ago. He would've been 69 years old. I find it almost impossible to think of that gangly, 20 year old "quiet Beatle" on Ed Sullivan's Show as a senior citizen.

Last fall, I wrote this about him, after watching the excellent "Living in the Material World" documentary about his life. As in "The Concert for George", his friends talk about their love for him. I highly recommend both films, whether you're a Beatlemaniac or not. Because you'll find yourself marveling at the beautiful, complicated friendships he treasured so much:

A few months ago, I blogged about Paul McCartney’s concert at Wrigley Field and how his tributes to John Lennon and George Harrison were so very different: while the song dedicated to John was full of regret and guilt, the one for George clearly showed the love they felt free to express to one another.
HBO has been showing Martin Scorcese’s documentary about George Harrison, “Living in the Material World”. His wife, Olivia, and son, Dhani, spoke fondly and honestly about George. But it was in the words of his friends that you really got a sense of the man: strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures.
One friend admitted that it was still difficult for him to talk about George, ten years after his death.
Another laughed about George being stubborn enough, even as he was dying, to buy a house in Switzerland to avoid the tax man (the subject of one of his best-known songs).
But it was Ringo’s emotional story of his last visit with him, at that house in Switzerland, that stuck with me. By then, George was too sick to get out of bed. Ringo had to leave: his own daughter was in Boston, diagnosed with a brain tumor, and he had to get to her. When he told his friend why he was leaving, George asked, “do you want me to go with you?”
They both knew it was impossible, but it was a measure of the man to want to support his friend, even as his own death approached.
As the almost 4-hour documentary shows, George wanted to leave the world a better place. Most would assume he would do that with music, and he certainly did. But for his friends, the music was almost incidental. It was the love he showed his friends that made their world a better place.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Most would say, I suspect, that he goes with them every day. So it is with our friends, too. Friends die, but friendships don’t.


Learn more about “Living in the Material World” at George’s website.

Monday, October 24, 2011

"Living in the Material World"

A few months ago, I blogged about Paul McCartney’s concert at Wrigley Field and how his tributes to John Lennon and George Harrison were so very different: while the song dedicated to John was full of regret and guilt, the one for George clearly showed the love they felt free to express to one another.
HBO has been showing Martin Scorcese’s documentary about George Harrison, “Living in the Material World”. His wife, Olivia, and son, Dhani, spoke fondly and honestly about George. But it was in the words of his friends that you really got a sense of the man: strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures.
One friend admitted that it was still difficult for him to talk about George, ten years after his death.
Another laughed about George being stubborn enough, even as he was dying, to buy a house in Switzerland to avoid the tax man (the subject of one of his best-known songs).
But it was Ringo’s emotional story of his last visit with him, at that house in Switzerland, that stuck with me. By then, George was too sick to get out of bed. Ringo had to leave: his own daughter was in Boston, diagnosed with a brain tumor, and he had to get to her. When he told his friend why he was leaving, George asked, “do you want me to go with you?”
They both knew it was impossible, but it was a measure of the man to want to support his friend, even as his own death approached.
As the almost 4-hour documentary shows, George wanted to leave the world a better place. Most would assume he would do that with music, and he certainly did. But for his friends, the music was almost incidental. It was the love he showed his friends that made their world a better place.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Most would say, I suspect, that he goes with them every day. So it is with our friends, too. Friends die, but friendships don’t.

 

Learn more about “Living in the Material World” at George’s website.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

"The Concert for George" Live Streaming 2/25

This Friday, February 25 would have been George Harrison's 68th birthday. 

In my post The Concert for George, I shared the story of how this concert was created: as a way for his friends to honor George and to mourn their loss.

On his birthday, "The Concert for George" will livestream on his website for all to enjoy.

Feel free to sing along!

Friday, February 11, 2011

The Concert for George

“All I wanted to do was really share our love for George and his music with the people.  I need to do this for him, but it’s for me most of all – I need to be able to express my grief in this sort of way.” – Eric Clapton
How do we memorialize our friends?  How do we show the world how much that person meant to us, how much our lives changed for knowing them?  There’s more than one way to remember your friends, just as there is more than one way to grieve.
Some people give eulogies.  Some people donate money to causes that were important to their friend.  Some people have the opportunity to do something a little bigger.
One year after George Harrison died, a group of his friends gathered at The Royal Albert Hall in London for a ‘memorial service’.  It was called The Concert for George, an evening to celebrate the music and the life of the “quiet Beatle”.
People came from all parts of his life: his wife and son, the two surviving Beatles, his favorite comedy troupe (Monty Python), musicians he’d played with and admired.  They shared his music and entertained an audience not just in attendance that night, but around the world via PBS and a commemorative concert DVD.  Their efforts supported the Material World Charitable Foundation, established by Harrison in 1973.
There were no eulogies, in the traditional sense.  But as you listen to them talk between songs and during rehearsal you realize the true meaning of that night for his friends:  to work through their grief while honoring their friend. 
“A lot of our grieving has been dealt with by playing this week,” Clapton said.  “This is a blessed occasion for me because I can share my love of George with you…and I think most important of all is that his wife Olivia and his son Dhani can experience and witness how much we loved him, through his music tonight.”
Most of us don’t have the chance to memorialize our friends in this way.  But the sentiment Clapton expressed is universal.  We want the world to know and love that person who meant so much to us:  who they were, why they were important to us, and why the world is a sadder place without them.