A Collective Loss

In many ways, yesterday felt a lot like December 31, 2021, when we learned the world had lost Betty White.

But there was one very stark difference. Yesterday somehow felt worse.

Because on that day, as heartbroken as we were, we could still say, “At least we still have Dolly.”

Yesterday, we couldn’t.

It’s not an understatement to say that the nation, and much of the world, collectively sighed, cried, screamed “No!”, and, yes, rejoiced when we learned of the passing of Dolly Parton.

And before anyone floods the comments questioning the word rejoiced, remember that for many people of faith, rejoicing at someone’s passing isn’t about being happy that they died. It’s about believing they have gone home.

Given Dolly’s deep and abiding faith, I believe she would have wanted us to rejoice in knowing that she was going home to heaven, to her beloved Carl, her parents, and all those she loved and lost along the way. I can only imagine the welcoming committee waiting for her with open arms.

But most of us, even those of us who believe in God and heaven, are still far too human for that to erase the sadness.

Because losing Dolly hurts.

Of course, we can be grateful that she is no longer in pain, no longer struggling through illness, and finally at peace. But selfishly, we still want her here.

We want the laugh. The hair. The rhinestones. The stories. The music. The wicked sense of humor. The kindness. The enormous heart behind that larger-than-life personality.

We want Dolly.

Because, damn it, Dolly just made us feel good.

She made the world feel a little kinder. A little funnier. A little more colorful. And somehow, when Dolly was around, it felt like maybe everything was going to be okay.

And yesterday, the world became a lot less bright without her.

Thank you Dolly. We will always love and cherish you.