Everybody's hardest days have a soundtrack, and mine saved my life more than once. When my wife was sick, there was one old gospel song I played on the drive home from the hospital every night, windows down, so I could cry at highway speed without anyone seeing. After we lost her, I could not play it for a year. Then one evening it came on by itself, and instead of breaking me it folded around me like her arm across my shoulder. That is the strange mercy of music: it holds what words cannot, and it keeps the people we love in a place we can still visit. Build the playlist. Not for the party, for the parking lot. The hard nights will come, and you will want the right songs ready.
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