Page 141 of Sing it, Sam

“It was meant to be the four of us,” I tell Butch. It leads me to think about Ed. If Kim is still willing to give him up, I will happily take him. Sam would like that.

I make myself a jumbo hot chocolate and sit down at my desk and turn on my laptop. In that moment, I steel my resolve and commit myself to one thing.

To write.

To pour my heart out and bleed every thought and emotion into my words. I hope more than anything that this will help me grieve, to process what’s happened. I have to feel everything, even if it stings like a blade being sliced right to my core as I do it. I refuse to forget a single moment we shared. Putting it on paper means our love will live forever. His life will be held sacred in print.

As my fingers dance over the keyboard, page after page is filled with the ramblings of my broken heart. This can be a part of Sam’s legacy.You’ll never be forgotten, Sam.

I need a title for my work. Until now, I hadn’t thought about it. When I mull over the stock-standard titles with ‘love’ or ‘heart’ in the title, I know it has to ring true. It has to embody the man and the musician he aspired to be.

Then, three words come to mind. Three words that encapsulate that feeling he described as he prepared to gift a crowd with his voice and his words. Three words that capture the way his eyes lit up, and how something sparked inside of him when I uttered them to him.

Sing it, Sam.

That’s it.

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