On April 21, 2016, my life changed. I found out I was losing a job I really loved, and mere hours later I found out that Prince had died. My heart was broken in a million pieces. In that moment, I didn’t know how I was going to move forward. I was paralyzed with fear. But, I did move forward. Two months later, I was living in Seattle, starting a new job in a city I was unfamiliar with and where I knew only one person. I was anxious, but also exhilarated at the prospect of starting fresh. I was just so sure the move was the best thing I had ever done.
In some ways, the move to Seattle at that exact time was the best thing for me. It gave me a chance to be with myself and to really think about who I was, who I wanted to be, and how I wanted to shape my future. It helped me prove to myself that I was made of tougher stuff than I thought I was—moving across the country alone to a place where you know basically no one is not for the faint of heart. It allowed me to get to know a city I was only slightly acquainted with before. It gave me the opportunity to try new things, and accept new opportunities in both in my personal and professional lives. I became a different—better—person because of this experience.
Ultimately, though, Seattle was not for me. I had been working on moving before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and my decision to move was only solidified after being isolated for months. My anxiety hit an alarming crescendo and I decided it was time to take action. So, I (temporarily) moved back to Cincinnati in November 2020, and I’ve been staying at my mom’s house. At some point in the next year, I plan to move to Chicago, something I’ve been dreaming about for almost 20 years.
Today, April 21, 2021, I woke to an unseasonable two inches of snow on the ground. It’s the fifth anniversary of Prince’s death, so of course his song (with the Revolution) “Sometimes It Snows in April” has been playing on a loop in my head.
In July 2017, I saw the Revolution perform at the ShowBox in Seattle. It was such an incredible experience for me, as it was the closest I’d gotten to seeing Prince perform (I was never able to see him live when he was alive). About 3/4 of the way into the set, Wendy and Lisa gave an incredibly emotional performance of “Sometimes It Snows in April,” a song they’d written with him in the mid-1980s on the exact date of his death. I was sobbing through the entire song. This isn’t the performance I saw, but it gives you a good idea of what it felt like to be in the room, listening to arguably Prince’s closest and best collaborators perform this song that acted a bit as a eulogy for him.
So, while April 21 largely represents a day of loss for me, the snowfall this morning reminds me that it’s also a day for me to remember how I’ve changed and what I’ve learned from the hardships and challenges I’ve faced since that day in 2016. I’ll listen to “Sometimes It Snows in April” and I’ll allow myself a moment to relive my grief, and then I’ll move on. That’s the only thing I can do.
A Bit Niche 