Yesterday the song playing on repeat in my head was the wistful “Stones in the Road” by Mary Chapin Carpenter, the first chorus of the song as below:
And the stones in the road
Shone like diamonds in the dust
And then a voice called to us
To make our way back home
The wistfulness in this song, with its themes of lost childhood innocence and the harsh realities of adulthood, resonates deeply.
Until now, memories have been submerged beneath the overwhelming floods of grief, except fot those uninvited. When a memory surfaces, I often relive the experience through the lens of my mindset at the time – happier, joyful, feeling compelte. I find returning back to the present after a remembrance is severely jarring – the contrast brings an extra arrow to the heart. Until now I’ve not been strong enough to willingly seek out and revisit memories, knowing the painful price, and have only been able to endure the waves of those those that come uninvited. Slowly as I continue trying to heal, I’m inviting memories to return—memories that have until now been submerged beneath the overwhelming floods of grief.
I found myself reflecting on that familiar question we so often ask about celebrities: “Where are they now?” That led me to look up what Mary Chapin Carpenter has been doing lately. I was delighted to discover she’d released a new album, joined by two Scottish singer-songwriters, Julie Fowlis and Karine Polwart. The album was recorded in England, and Polwart noted that the songs weren’t “pre-produced to within an inch of their lives.” The result has been described as evocative, dreamy, and contemplative.
I was thrilled as I listened to the beginning of the first track, Gràdh Geal Mo Chridhe, sung in Gaelic. I sampled a few more songs, browsed through the lyrics, and instantly knew—this would be my first album purchase and full listen in over a year. My finger hovered over iTunes, but once again, that quiet inner voice nudged me toward the physical CD.
Dad was a devoted fan of CDs, and I’ve come to share that sentiment. There’s something uniquely meaningful about holding a tangible bundle of art in your hands—a personal experience waiting to unfold, shaped by your own perspective and life’s journey.
The next morning, it had arrived. I had to scramble to find the plug in cord to the CD player Dad had given me, as the player had been out of use the past year. In fact, I haven’t listened to a single album since before Dad passed away. I knew he would want me to have music and so I’ve listened to jazz and ambient music, but there have been no albums with lyrics, no songwriters, that part of my life had fallen silent, until now.
I love the CD and its celtic flavours, bringing me back to many beautiful weekends at the Edmonton Folk Music Festival over three decades. Sitting on the tarp in the summer’s blazing heat, with the beautiful strains of ancient sounds from overseas wafting through the air. In fact, the harmonies and vocal tonalities of the songs were described as reminiscent of The McGarrigle Sisters who Dad and I loved listening to. The lyrics are beautiful. I followed along until I made it to the title song, Looking for the Thread.
I’m absolutely in love with the CD, its Celtic flavors evoking memories of countless beautiful weekends spent at the Edmonton Folk Music Festival over three decades, starting in the 1980s. I can almost feel myself back on the tarp, the summer heat blazing down, while the rich, ancient sounds from overseas drifted through the air. The harmonies and vocal tones of the songs were even described as reminiscent of The McGarrigle Sisters, a duo Dad and I cherished listening to. The lyrics are exquisite, and I found myself following along, lost in the music—reaching the title track, Looking for the Thread.
“Looking For The Thread”
Mary Chapin Carpenter, Julie Fowlis & Karine Polwart
A dark road up ahead, the light in late September
The music in my head that I’ve memorized forever
Words I should have said and doors I never should have entered
I’m just looking for the thread
That ties it all together
Old letters never read, old grudges burned to embers
Migrations overhead, the beating wings of purple vespers
Did you jump or were you led and does it even really matter
You’re just looking for the thread
That ties it all together
Against silver skies of lead
All the lives we learn to shed
Like leaves from trees before the winter
I made a prayer from what you said
That no one is ever dead
Because time and love remember
With that final line, everything suddenly clicked into place. I knew, without a doubt, that I was meant to hear this song at this very moment—that it was meant to be the first album I’d listen to as I returned to music. And then, these lines:
There are dark roads up ahead, tie your compass to some leather
We are marching to the edge in every kind of weather
If life is but a pledge I have made mine from a feather
I had to read and reread the last line. Feather. The profound meaningfulness of this singular word can not be overstated… the feather motif has followed my writings in this journey the past year. And so the song went on until the end-
I had to read and reread the last line. Feather. The depth and significance of that single word were impossible to overstate. The feather motif has been a thread tying my writings on this journey over the past year together. And so the song continued–
And a ribbon for the thread that ties it all together
I’m just looking for the thread
That ties us all together
Looking for the thread
That ties us all together