Whenever I hear this song, it doesn't make me sad, rather it makes me happy, it's one of the ways I communicate with God.

I looked around at all those who loved him and whose lives he'd changed - just by being him.

At first, listening to this particular song was an emotional challenge, it was just too painful. Over time, however, it has become a source of comfort.

She was, and always will be my hero, throughout my life and most certainly throughout the course of her death.

It was in the fall and I would fall asleep to the song “Angel” and I would fall asleep while I was crying because I was already grieving him.

My Dad’s love for music and “a good tune” lives on in our family.

It was in recent years that I learned this song was one of my grandma’s favorites and I can see why.

The power of algorithms. Inevitable. Scientific. Yet still a bit spooky. And as he lay there, the ‘elephant in the room’, ever present, of his impending death, we played the most poignant, relevant, achingly appropriate lyrics.

Gaynor's "I Will Survive" rocked the church as we filed out, and every time I hear the song now I think of him, of his friends sobbing without restraint in the aisle that day, and the loss of so much intelligence, kindness and talent.

We have/had a tabby cat, ate café snacks and romanced by candlelight

So, when I sing this song, or listen to the multitude of songs that we enjoyed together, it’s like a string connecting us through time and space. His memory is only ever a song away.

I got my first tattoo aged 55. A line of music that runs along the inside of my left arm. The things you do for your kids.

We’d stand arm in arm in a large circle around the living room, all doing our best to remember the ‘weird’ words.

The three hour drive back and forth to visit him was filled with the Mt. Hood National Forest, Warm Springs Indian Reservation, wild horses and music.

We loved to dance and spent many a night dancing in our kitchen.

That song helped me step into Alan’s shoes, to feel how much his mum meant to him—and how blessed I was to know her and be loved by her. I still get goosebumps when I hear it.

In 1984, as a 20 year old working in a local bar, I saw her. Beverley. Younger than me, breathtakingly beautiful, and everything stopped apart from my heartbeat. I instantly fell in love, the only time in my life that this really happened to me.

My dad was a man who always played by the rules, but on warm summer nights, with all the windows and doors open, he would turn it up so loud that the whole neighbourhood could hear.

The summer that followed was a blur, as all early grief tends to be. I had several songs rolling around in my brain during that time and the main one that comes to me is this one - just playing on repeat.

She was kindness held together by bones and skin. We lost her to suicide on July 15th, 2018. "This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you."