Sing a Glad Song
On March 14, 2020 I was working a shift at the hospital. It was a Saturday and I was a charge nurse that day on the unit. Just the week before, Nashville had seen a tornado rip through its aorta and suddenly rumors of a deadly coronavirus were seeming to knock on all doors. NYC was already in crisis, and it was only a matter of time before the entire country would be affected by Covid-19. Even so, we’d managed to put together a benefit in Nashville for tornado victims at our favorite bar, Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge. Many hugs were exchanged that evening and the togetherness of the community was apparent. My friends and I were also volunteering daily at Greater Heights Church in North Nashville, helping out with distributing much needed supplies and making sure those in need were receiving the assistance they needed. Many were still without power and had severe damages from the storm. From the day of the tornado, any type of masks were nowhere to be found. I went to multiple stores in the area and they were cold SOLD OUT. Anyway, March 14 was the last ‘normal’ day I remember and it wasn’t that at all. It was the day that my heart received the intel that this was going to be bad, like super bad. I don’t know if it was the maintenance dudes taking measurements in patient rooms, or the news, or the piles and piles of new policies coming down from the hospital administrators, or a combo of all those, that told me we were in for it. I looked at my work friends that day and said, ‘will this be the end of our lives as we know it?’ We went about our day and I thought maybe I’m being dramatic but as I drove home that evening I sobbed and sobbed. I’ve often been an anticipatory griever, and I couldn’t deny that what I felt was very serious. When I pulled up to the house, I remembered my husband had invited our friends over for dinner and their car was already in the driveway. ‘They shouldn’t be here’ I remember thinking, afraid I would contaminate them somehow with what I may be bringing home. I dried my eyes, took a breath and entered the house. I immediately went to the shower and cried just a little more, telling myself to calm down a bit. My friends Sarah Beth and David and my husband Jason were happily cooking dinner, tasting bits of the stew he was preparing and sharing beverages and laughing. I want to join them but I’m afraid this is bad. I surrendered to the party and had a couple of drinks and felt a bit better. We played a card game and were listening to music and having fun, but suddenly, I could do nothing but break down again. Out of nowhere, I was crying. I told them how somber I was feeling about what was about to happen and that everything was about to change. I didn’t know what to do and that this might be the last time we see each other for a long long time. They left shortly after, and again I wondered if I was being over-dramatic but I couldn’t deny what I was feeling.
Jason and his stew that evening
The next day my regular Sunday afternoon gig at Dee’s was cancelled and by the evening the bars had been shut down. Everything for those next two weeks was suddenly off the books. On Monday night, David started to feel sick and another day later, Sarah Beth, also began having symptoms. They both tested positive for Covid-19.
My heart sank. For two weeks I checked my temperature twice a day and waited for the illness to come to me. It never did. David and Sarah Beth were sick for several weeks and we still don’t know where they caught it. I even wondered if I was somehow an asymptomatic carrier. But my initial anxiety was confirmed.
In the days and weeks to come I drew inward and became reflective of the circumstances around. I started making playlists to cope, and while I was exploring new music, I heard ‘Sing a Glad Song’ by Kevin Morby. The words and music lifted me up and I felt emotional every time I listened to this song.
‘When you get to feeling so bad, sing a glad song, When you get to feeling so sad, sing a glad song... And perhaps we’ll meet again my friend, above the weather. And these coughs in our chests will have gotten better.”
I still get a little choked up when I think of those lines and hear the piano cadence in my head all the way down to my heart in my chest. Music is healing and as a healer, music sustains. It can take you back to a place and propel you into the future. Learning this song makes it even more profound in my soul. I’m so happy to share it with you here.