RIP JP

On Wednesday night I learned that the world had lost John Prine, that I had lost John Prine, and the familiar feeling of loss once again came out from the shadows. The acuteness of the grief didn't compare to when I lost my dad or my grandpa, but the achiness felt the same. We were out of time and it just didn't feel fair.

I remember so vividly listening to John Prine records with my dad--and on high volume. Some of his/our favorites were "Daddy's Little Pumpkin," which I incorrectly interpreted as a sweet song about a girl and her father--and later learned that that he wasn't that kind of daddy! The song "Sam Stone" was about a Vietnam veteran who struggled with addiction, and in my head I would change his line "There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes" to "there's a hole in daddy's heart where all the money goes." It wasn't a song about me, but somehow it felt like a song for me. All of Prine's music feels that way to me.

On Wednesday night B and I listened to his music for 3 straight hours, and lyrics poured out of my mouth that I hadn't sang since I sang them with my dad over 10 years ago. Tears poured out too. Especially at the song "Souvenirs" and especially at this part:

"Broken hearts and dirty windows,
Make life difficult to see.
That's why last night and this morning,
Always look the same to me. 

I hate reading old love letters,
For they always bring me tears.
I can't forgive the way they rob me
Of my sweetheart's souvenirs."

Fly High JP!