Like everyone else, I was devastated when I got the news of Harry’s death. Out of my grief I wrote this, and the understanding that came:
We had quite a storm the night before — The wind was howling, and it started to pour. And I thought, “Lord, what are you trying to say?” The phone rang next evening. She said, “I’ve got some bad news to tell you, babe… Harry Chapin died today.”
I can’t tell you where the pain came from. All I knew was that I hurt. And the tears were streaming down my face as I wiped them with my shirt. It just seemed so hard to comprehend that his own life’s story had reached its’ end. And now we have to wait a time to hear him play again.
I walked out into the darkness, and I fell down on my knees saying, “Lord God, Our Father above, take good care of Harry, please. He reached our soul with every song, and helped us find out where we belong, and showed us it’s o.k. to be who we are. And he sang out for the hungry children — all over the world. Yes, he played the very music of life with a band full of friends, and his guitar.“
I searched the skies to see if I could find some sadness there, but the moon shone bright as ever, and there was joy within the air. And the cool night breeze danced around me, and it seemed at last a peace of mind had found me.
And I smiled and said, “Rest awhile, Harry. I know now it’s the way it was meant to be.”
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