Down There by the Train

“If you’ve lost all your hope. If you’ve lost all your faith. I know you can be cared for. I know you can be safe.” Tom Waits “Down There By the Train”

Tom invites all of the shameful and all of the whores to meet him down there by the train for healing…to finally…FINALLY…find safe. To finally be cared for.

Life shits on us all. Some more than others. The natural reaction to loved ones letting us down is to give up hope. Maybe our parents in one way or another betrayed our trust. Or that guy or that girl who was supposed to be the one cheated on us or left us.

But, they didn’t leave us alone. They left us with that soul crushing feeling of rejection. My parents did this to me, so I don’t deserve to be loved. We miss the parents issues that made them treat us like they did and only feel unlovable. Or my boyfriend left me for another girl. We can’t see that he’s an asshole and we deserve better. Instead rejection tells us that we were lucky to have him and want him back.

But, what if there’s this train that Waits talks about? What if there’s a place where we can truly be cared for?

I was sitting on my porch last night pondering life and I was struck with the magnitude of how hard it was to grow up like I did. I don’t want to overstate the chaos, because large chunks of it I don’t remember. But, there are elements and evidence that my house was less the safe place home should be and more a place where my sister and I did well just to survive.

And that shit was passed down from generation to generation in my family. We had a house. We had a place where we slept. We had a nuclear family. But, man all the shit that was under the surface. My mom and dad both grew up with trauma and therefore my sister and I did too.

And when you grow up like that and have relationships in adulthood that confirm that you should feel shitty about yourself, it’s pretty fucking tempting to do just give up. Why should I try? The mountain is too fucking big. I can’t face it. I’ll drink it away. Or smoke it away. But, you wake up the morning after and it’s still there. And it seems bigger. So you avoid it all the more.

But, what if there really is a train? What if it’s possible that all the shit that’s been piled on you throughout your life can be lifted?

Is it possible the Tom Waits found something for people like us? For the fucked up? For the hopeless? For the whores and the shamefuls? What if there’s an antidote which has the effect of this idea from the White Stripes “the Denial Twist”, “take a mountain turn it into a mole.”

Grace did that for me. I was overwhelmed by a life that was absolutely kicking my ass. Fired from my job. Kicked out of my house. Ostracized from my church. But, man I found this lady…or Grace led me to this lady…who had the effect that Wait’s train will have on people.

When you think all hope is lost and hope finds you…there’s no better feeling. Grace has the most impact on the people who have fucked up the most. And you know what’s crazy about it? All of our fuck ups…there’s logical reasons for them…they happen because of our story.

What you’ve done isn’t the end of the world. Once you start talking about it and being honest about your shit and trying to piece it together you realize that fucked up family situations and relationships led you to where you are. But, motherfucker get on the train. Meet me down there by the train.

We’ll have some drinks and talk stories. We’ll tell the truth. We’ll give each other grace. And we’ll shelter each other and give each other home.

I looked at the reflection of myself in my screen door last night and shook my head. It’s because I’ve been through the shit I’ve been through that I can appreciate the effects of the train. And tell other people to meet me there. I wouldn’t wish my shit on anyone, but I’m glad I went through it. Because I’m here now. I’m cared for. I’m safe. And to a shameful like myself it’s overwhelming to finally have that.