I wrote this song for my brother Adam who passed away in June of 2020. Adam and I were incredibly close. We also hadn’t spoken for at least a couple of years. It's complicated, but those two facts have made his death that much more difficult for me.
A couple of weeks after his passing, I was sitting on a beach with my family and I had my lyric
A couple of weeks after his passing, I was sitting on a beach with my family and I had my lyric
I wrote this song for my brother Adam who passed away in June of 2020. Adam and I were incredibly close. We also hadn’t spoken for at least a couple of years. It's complicated, but those two facts have made his death that much more difficult for me.
A couple of weeks after his passing, I was sitting on a beach with my family and I had my lyric book open. I had a vision in my mind of doves being let go in the air, so I picked up my pencil and scribbled the first few lines of the song:
“This morning I saw two doves.
I bought them for you,
Well, they were for me too.”
That was all I wrote that afternoon and I thought that was a decent start. However, the weirdest thing happened just a couple of days later when two doves actually showed up in my backyard and planned to stay.
The nest was in a ridiculous place – on top of a video projector that hangs off the ceiling of my back patio – and the first day, I only saw the beginnings of a nest and one of the two doves. I shooed her away and got rid of the few twigs and things they had put together. The second day, I came out and there was a fully formed nest and two doves sitting there like they were at home. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I shooed the birds but they wouldn't budge, so -- and I didn't feel great about this -- I turned the hose on them. The doves flew away and after they left, I cleared away the nest, and fashioned an elaborate, spiky chicken-wire sculpture to put on top of the projector to keep them away. I was sure that would keep them away..
The next morning, I came out only to find the doves sitting there in a new nest, squished up in a tiny corner of the chicken wire, looking at me like ‘Hey! What’s up?’ Ugh, these stupid doves! For the last time, I cleared out the nest and built the most elaborate, jagged, doom-filled object I could imagine and filled the space above the projector. The next day, the doves were gone.
The whole dove incident added an other-worldliness to the whole process of putting this song together. I have to admit I often felt Adam’s presence as I was working on it. I’ll also admit that I’m a bit out of my mind in general. Mostly though, I’m grateful, especially during these times that have been challenging to so many, that I have this creative outlet in my life and I'm happy as ever to pour myself into it. I channeled a lot of the grief in my heart into this song. Maybe it won’t win a Grammy (maybe it will, who knows!), but it’s already served it's higher purpose for me.
I hope you listen and enjoy. Much love.
A couple of weeks after his passing, I was sitting on a beach with my family and I had my lyric book open. I had a vision in my mind of doves being let go in the air, so I picked up my pencil and scribbled the first few lines of the song:
“This morning I saw two doves.
I bought them for you,
Well, they were for me too.”
That was all I wrote that afternoon and I thought that was a decent start. However, the weirdest thing happened just a couple of days later when two doves actually showed up in my backyard and planned to stay.
The nest was in a ridiculous place – on top of a video projector that hangs off the ceiling of my back patio – and the first day, I only saw the beginnings of a nest and one of the two doves. I shooed her away and got rid of the few twigs and things they had put together. The second day, I came out and there was a fully formed nest and two doves sitting there like they were at home. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I shooed the birds but they wouldn't budge, so -- and I didn't feel great about this -- I turned the hose on them. The doves flew away and after they left, I cleared away the nest, and fashioned an elaborate, spiky chicken-wire sculpture to put on top of the projector to keep them away. I was sure that would keep them away..
The next morning, I came out only to find the doves sitting there in a new nest, squished up in a tiny corner of the chicken wire, looking at me like ‘Hey! What’s up?’ Ugh, these stupid doves! For the last time, I cleared out the nest and built the most elaborate, jagged, doom-filled object I could imagine and filled the space above the projector. The next day, the doves were gone.
The whole dove incident added an other-worldliness to the whole process of putting this song together. I have to admit I often felt Adam’s presence as I was working on it. I’ll also admit that I’m a bit out of my mind in general. Mostly though, I’m grateful, especially during these times that have been challenging to so many, that I have this creative outlet in my life and I'm happy as ever to pour myself into it. I channeled a lot of the grief in my heart into this song. Maybe it won’t win a Grammy (maybe it will, who knows!), but it’s already served it's higher purpose for me.
I hope you listen and enjoy. Much love.