Introducing my new single 🎶🎧, Masks…
During the height of the covid pandemic, I had this thought: masks are not new to us. I mean, we’ve struggled with isolation from one another before. Now, the isolation is physical; before covid, it played out in other ways.
I thought, “but… we can still connect, even with these medical masks on, if we want to. We still have our eyes.”
A mask is not a mask if we don’t cover up our eyes.
I began writing this song, and very quickly this song about the current cultural isolation reached back a few more years. I found myself in the hospital with my wife and our newborn daughter, who was supposed to die any minute in our arms.
A friend of ours, Amy, came running through the door of our hospital room at 4am, took my wife’s head in her arms and prayed for her. Then she held Olivia while we finally slept.
I remember laying there, my face against the wall, sobbing, while Amy held our daughter. She was holding all three of us.
You are not alone. I am here with you now. Till the morning comes. Close your eyes.
Even as I type this out, my eyes are filled with tears and my heart is filled with gratefulness for the support of our friend, Amy, during one of our darkest hours.
I kept writing this — now dual-layer — song, smiling and crying, still receiving healing from those difficult moments, still feeling the warmth of love from a friend in that cold hospital room.
I kept writing this song, and for a third time, I was taken somewhere new. This time, just a handful of hours earlier — the operating room. We were prepped to say goodbye to Olivia upon her arrival. I watched them wheel Heather away to prep her for an emergency C-section. I have never been so scared in my life. I’ve heard Heather say the same.
But, in the midst of this moment we had been dreading — amidst the doctors, the lights, the talking, the beeping, and tidal waves of fear from every direction — there was a girl. One of the nurses. As Heather received her anesthesia — as if she had not already given up enough control — this nurse put her head against my wife’s head, held it there, and cried with her. She knew what Heather was about to do.
You are not alone. I am here. I am here with you now.
And as I wrote the words of this song, now crying almost uncontrollably, I saw the face of this nurse. She wore a blue mask, like the one I’ve been wearing everywhere for the last 14 months.
Yes. These masks can not stop us from connecting together. During this pandemic, we can say these words to each other. And after the pandemic, when the medical masks come off, we can also choose to shed the older, fuller masks — the ones that cover our eyes, hiding our souls from each other. If we want, we can remove those masks too. We can offer these words to each other.
Today I offer these words — this song — to you:
You are not alone. I am here. I am here with you now. Till the morning comes. Close your eyes. I am here with you tonight.
We will make it though to the morning together. 😌🌅