Pink Ribbon

I wish you’d leave.  I don’t want you here.

The words came to me as I sat at my keyboard, thinking about my Dad.

No, my dad wasn’t a bad man.  He was a good man.  A blue-collar, hardworking provider to our family.

The words echoing in my head were words I felt, or more like sensed, were probably consuming his thoughts at that moment, 350 miles away from where I sat praying aloud at my keyboard.

I'd just returned from visiting my parents in Missouri and was still reeling from the shock of seeing Dad's condition.  My strong and steady, always dependable dad had been diagnosed with lung cancer, and the radiation treatments had taken a toll on his body.  He was thinner than I’d ever seen him, his vitality drained and replaced by a pallor of sickness and weakness I didn’t know how to respond to. The man I had always considered invincible was…not.

To make things more difficult, even if I'd known what to say, my dad was the kind of man who’d be uncomfortable hearing it.  And he’d most certainly not want to talk about what he was going through.  He came from an era, and way of life growing up, when feelings and emotions weren’t talked about.  You just took the hand you were dealt and did the best you could with it.  If it was a bad hand, well…you made up your mind to overcome it and pass on a better one to others down the line.   He wasn't the kind to talk about it.

So when I returned to Nashville, I thought about what I could do to show my dad how much I loved him.  How I felt deeply what he was going through and knew he was feeling deeply, too.  I wanted to write a song for him, to say the things I couldn’t say and the things he couldn’t talk about.   As I sat at the keyboard praying, asking God to help me create something that would honor Dad…something that would give him hope and encouragement and strength, I felt in my spirit this question:

What would he be thinking right now, about this enemy that has invaded his life…his family…his body?

That’s when the words and melody started to come, and the music through my fingertips onto the keyboard.

I wish you’d leave.  I don’t want you here.

Why’d you have to turn my world upside down,

And poison me with fear.

It just aint right.  It’s not fair.

When I look in the mirror, I see you there.

The first verse, and most of the first chorus, came quickly.  As I thought about how I could convey to listeners exactly what this song was about -- that it’s not an enemy who's a person, but an enemy of sickness -- I knew I wanted to say it with a word that represented LIFE… not a word associated with disease, or fear, or death.  The Bible says  (Proverbs 18:21) There is death and life in the power of the tongue.   I wanted this song to represent HOPE.  ENDURANCE.  FAITH.  LOVE.  LIFE.  Things that heaven has for us here on earth, even while in the midst of pain and suffering, hardship and trials.

And so I knew, as I turned off the keyboard power that morning and gathered my things to head to a writing appointment with Tammy Rogers (SteelDrivers band), this song would not have that word in it.  That word is a brutal reality in far too many lives, and I didn't want to give it any more power by singing it...recording it...putting it into the atmosphere.  Instead, the message of this song would be conveyed by a universally known symbol: a pink ribbon.

When Tammy heard what I’d written at our writing appointment, she had an emotional reaction.  “My mother-in-law is going through breast cancer treatment right now,”  She said, with tears welling up in her eyes.   “I would love to finish writing this song with you, and give it to her as a gift.”

It’s one of those songs that, as we say in the songwriting world, finished writing itself—we just happened to be in the room.  Tammy shared it with her mother-in-law, and I shared it with my dad.   I know it meant a lot to him, and it blessed my mom, too.  Unfortunately, Dad lost his battle with lung cancer a year later.  Mom would be faced with her own Pink Ribbon journey three years down the road.  Thankfully, she is now over 5 years in recovery, a survivor on the other side of her treatment.  She still tells me how much this song has meant to her and others she has shared it with over the years.

The song has taken on a life of its own, having been performed by various singers at women’s conferences, breast cancer awareness benefits, and shared as a gift from person to person…like a ripple effect of hope.  My husband learned to play it on the piano, and we performed it together at a COUNTRY IN THE ROCKIES music event one year.

Music is a powerful thing.  If you're going through a journey with this disease, or know someone who is, I pray this video of "Pink Ribbon" continues to have a ripple effect of hope....and that it leaves a blessing in its wake for all who see and hear it.

You can purchase the PINK RIBBON song here.