The Final Music

My memories have always had a soundtrack. Every song I’ve loved is tied to a moment — laughter on the road, quiet heartbreak, the rush of a new beginning. When a familiar tune plays, it’s as if time folds, and I’m right back there, feeling everything all over again.

The day I drove Rowdy to the cemetery, Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah began to hum itself in my head. I don’t remember when it started, but it stayed — through the drive, through the silence, even through the final goodbye. My wife and son spoke to me, but I wasn’t really there. I was lost somewhere between grief and melody.

Maybe that’s how Rowdy wanted it. Maybe Hallelujah was her farewell song — one that carried her spirit, pure and forgiving, far beyond what words ever could.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4&w=560&h=315]