The Day Dolly Died

Not more than a week ago, I had the random thought of what I’d do if Dolly died. I hadn’t been feeling particularly worried. I knew she had been battling an illness and was less in the public eye, but I had no evidence her death was imminent. It was just a thought that I wanted to move on from: God, that would be awful.

On Tuesday, I was back at my desk after a good meeting. Some things had recently fallen into place, and I was feeling buoyant. A quick scroll over on Facebook and I saw a friend’s post: “Check on your Dolly fans. We are not okay.” What?! I shook my head—no, no, no, this can’t be right. Next up was the official announcement (beautifully done, by the way) from her nephew. Denial (no!), anger (why?!), bargaining (why HER?!). I went through the first three stages* of grief in short order. Then depression. I arrived on the fourth and decided to linger there. Acceptance will have to wait.

Oh, if people would stop taking and just once try to give / We could make the world we’re living in a better place to live.

"A Better Place to Live" may be one of Dolly's lesser-known recordings, but I can find no better song to encapsulate this singular woman. Not one she’s known for, but one she lived. Today, she is being rightfully heralded as a modern-day saint—the most universally beloved human we’ve had the pleasure of knowing, whether we were lucky enough to have met her or not.

Recorded in 1969 and, of course, written by Dolly, the song appeared on her eighth solo album, Coat of Many Colors. Released in 1971, it quickly became the most critically acclaimed record of her relatively young career, and it still sits on many lists as one of the greatest country albums of all time. While the title track did the heavy lifting of opening the album, the upbeat but unassuming "A Better Place to Live" served as the final track, offering a fitting, hopeful bookend to Dolly's wistful beginning.

If we’d love one another instead of finding faults / We could afford the price of peace, love is all it costs

We are always better when we focus on what matters most, whether that is a coat stitched together from rags and love, or quite simply: giving, loving, forgiving, and rising together. Dolly knew this. Dolly lived this.

If we’d all climb together, we’d climb the highest hill / We could make the world we’re living in a better place to live

I spent hours this afternoon trying to focus on work, on things I had to do, but all I could do was scroll and cry. With audiophile parents, there was a lot of music in my house when I grew up—mostly jazz and blues, which didn’t hold my interest. But there were two worn albums in the country section of their vinyl collection that became my childhood favorites: Coat of Many Colors and Love is Like a Butterfly. I played them over and over, imagining her as a child and as a young woman in love. Her idyllic voice and simple beauty just made everything sweet.

I deepened my admiration when I saw her on the big screen, playing characters that didn’t stretch too far from her authentic self—with or without the big hair and sparkly outfits—and reading her memoir solidified all I had assumed. She was humble, funny, strong, sharp, savvy, and endlessly creative, but above all else, generous and loving. She was to be beheld forevermore. We went to Dollywood. I saw her at the Hollywood Bowl. I gushed when I could and held her in my heart. I heard the news today and my heart broke.

I discovered my particular love for her wasn’t particularly unique. I mean, I knew people loved her, but as much as me? Evidently so. Maybe even more. Tributes upon tributes, clips upon clips. I agreed with all I read and watched, was moved again and again, laughed here and there, cried some more, and saw the universal love that was expressed shift to despondence and despair. A bleak world has dimmed a bit more. For us all.

What would Dolly do?

There’s a bit of magic in a simple little smile / Something that just makes life seem a little more worthwhile.

And there’s a world of meaning in the touch of someone’s hand / A gentle touch that lets your brother know you understand

Dolly has told us what to do from the very beginning. She’s shown us the way. I’ll take her most famous lyric to heart as her final goodbye and trust she knows what’s best. She always has.

If I should stay

Well, I would only be in your way

And so I’ll go, and yet I know

I’ll think of you each step of the way

And I will always love you

Thank you Dolly. We’ve got this.

*-Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross wrote about the stages of grief in 1969, the same year Dolly wrote A Better Place to Live. And while presented in a linear fashion, grief is nothing but. Current understanding recognizes that some may not experience all the stages, in a different order, or may feel them all at once. And, feeling significant grief when a beloved celebrity dies? It is quite normal, but can feel confusing. Collective grief is real, but can also be very personal, as secondary loss, it can have all the symptoms we see when one has lost a loved one. Sadness, withdrawal, fatigue. But if it is shunned or dismissed, may create more problems. Such misunderstood grieving may evolve into disenfranchised or suffocated grief for the griever. Be kind to yourself and the Dolly groupies among you. Do what Dolly would do.