Dear Linda in The Long and Winding Road

Anyone who knows me at all, knows how much Linda Ronstadt has always meant to me. I have loved her music from the beginning. I saw her in concert every chance I got. I guess I identify with her as part of my youth. I can’t even really express it. And I don’t expect anyone else to understand it. I didn’t see her feature on the CBS Sunday Morning show – one of my favorite shows – but I stumbled upon it a few days ago. I watched it, and then I sobbed. I sobbed for the loss of such a beautiful voice. I sobbed for my own lost youth. I sobbed as I accepted that we all move on. We all die. The performers who meant so much to us, die. Their memory dies. Man, this is so morbid. But at my age we have lost, or will soon lose, so many people who have meant so much to us throughout our lives. What will I do when Paul McCartney dies? Or Eric Clapton? Or so many others? It’s hard to get old. It’s really hard to let go, to accept that nobody under the age of.... whatever.... cares about whatever we cared about… and that a new generation has moved into their youth, their dominance in American culture. But some day they will be the older ones. They will be the ones saying goodbye. Those of us who are lucky enough to live long lives, cannot escape that.

Linda