by: Marty Chrisman
The day was cold and overcast with a light rain falling. A day that perfectly matched the mood of the young man walking through the cemetery in Nashville. He’d asked the caretaker where to find the gravesite he was searching for. The caretaker had been glad to oblige. Folks seemed drawn for some reason to visit the grave of the famous lady singer who been killed so tragically at such a young age. They often came and left flowers, notes, all kinds of things behind. It wasn’t that usually for someone to stop by and ask him how to find her grave. But there was something different about the young man who had asked him today where she was buried. Maybe it was the haunted empty look in those sapphire blue eyes or maybe it was the way he walked, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Somehow, he sensed that this visitor had a more personal reason for visiting the young entertainer’s grave than most.
The young man walked down the rows of headstones until he found the one he was looking for. A simple marble headstone, nothing elaborate. She wouldn’t have wanted that anyway. Thankfully, whoever had arranged her funeral had realized that much. The young man’s eyes slowly read the inscription on the stone:
Sierra Lynn Dawson
Born July 15th, 1956 Died July 6th, 1985
The country music world has lost one of it’s
Brightest stars and now she sings with
The angel’s band in the greatest show of all
Corny maybe but somehow oddly appropriate. She was a shining star that had burned out much too soon. In the country music world she was already on her way to becoming one of its legends. Funny how that seemed to happen to the ones who died much too soon before their full potential could be realized. But then that was the stuff that country music was made out of, the pain of lost love, cheating and drinking songs, songs about the realities of life. So it wasn’t that unusual to immortalize one of their own and to embrace her as one of their legends.
But to the young man kneeling in front of her grave, she was more than just a famous singing star she was the woman he had loved with the passion and intensity of a young man’s first real love. A love that would never die and never be replaced. A big part of him had died with her and in his mind that also included his ability to love again. Their love affair sounded like one of her songs, they had met and fallen love, then been separated only to find each other again and fall in love all over again, then she had been tragically taken from him before they could get married. So to the eyes of the world, he was just a nameless face instead of the man she had loved with all her heart and soul.
Losing her had come close to destroying him, dangerously close and he still wasn’t recovered from her death, even after two years. He doubted if he ever would be. He’d spent the last two years here in Nashville learning about her world, the world she had lived in for eight years. The world that had made her a star. He had even been offered a recording contract of his own but had turned it down. This wasn’t his home and it never would be. When she died, the music died with her.
Bowing his head, he finally let the tears fall, the tears he’d kept locked away inside of him for two years. Deep heart wretching sobs that shook his body with their intensity. Maybe now, he could start to heal whatever that meant because in his heart he knew he would never completely heal. When he was finally able to get his emotions back under control, he slipped the silver band off the pinkie on his right hand. Gently brushing aside some of the dirt at the base of the stone, he lay the ring on the ground and covered back up. It was the only thing he had left to connect them for eternity. Shoving himself to his, Luke straightened up and slowly walked back to where he had parked his car. It was time to go back home where he belonged, back to the family he had left behind, the family he knew loved him and would be there waiting with open arms for his return.