I’ve spoken on more than one occasion of the importance of music in my relationship with my late husband.  It was an integral part of our family life, and the value and meaning of certain songs and lyrics haven’t stopped simply because he’s not physically here to share the moments with me.

There are times when I’ll hear a new song, or finally, actually hear the lyrics of a song I’ve known forever, and the tears will flow because I truly believe A is communicating with me in a way that is certain to get my attention.  This morning was one of those occasions.

My commute was spent almost entirely in tears, mostly the steady, silent ones that seem to come out of nowhere and simply fall endlessly.  (To be honest, I prefer these to the ugly, sobbing cries that make driving a bit difficult…)  It started, strangely enough, with…