You come with griefs large and looming:

Infertility and miscarriage,

Illness and cancer,

Separation and divorce,

Pain and death.

Losses too varied and impossible to name

And you make it into song.

You come with the stresses of adulthood:

Careers and parenthood,

To-do lists a mile long,

Dirty dishes and car repairs,

Shopping and laundry,

People to be fed and cared for,

Calendars to manage,

Plans to make.

All lingering at the edges of your minds,

Nagging you to do more, and be more.

And you take all this ordinary mess

And make it into song.

You come with your joys:

Love stories unfolding,

And families growing,

Dreams coming true,

And unexpected gifts arriving.

New careers. New opportunities.

Adventures, and beauty spilling over.

And you spin all that sunshine

Into song.

You come with your smiles,

Your cutting sarcasm,

Your easy laughter,

Your witty banter,

Your ability to still find humor

In this life with all its heartbreaks.

And you turn all this playfulness

Into song.

It takes such unimaginable strength:

This living.

This breathing.

This facing each day. 

Again and again and again.

And you not only survive,

But you come

To make it into song.

And when I hear these harmonies we make:

I hear your tenderness and your dreams,

Your sorrow, and your strength,

Your laughter, and your tears.

Your desperate hopes, and deepest fears.

Your love. Your passion.

Your bravery. Your beauty.

I hear the ocean of who you are,

and what you’ve lived through.

And I know I am not alone

in these impossible waters,

Because you dare

to make it all

into song.