It was like this song was written for and about my father and me. It made me cry — really cry — in a way a man doesn’t casually do. Tears rolling down my face in a flood. Hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the sounds rising from the core of me. James Blunt’s voice was enough. But the video… oh my. It unlocked years of tears and compartmentalized grief. It didn’t just crack the door — I thought nothing could get through — it obliterated it.
You can replace "father" with "mother," "husband," "wife," or whoever it is for you. Because you’ll know, when you hear it, who this song will speak for — and to.
For my fellow caregivers — especially the men — I urge you to watch. Not casually. Carve out a space and time when you can feel this. And give yourself room to recover.
It didn’t break me. It released me in a way I can’t fully explain. It didn’t add pressure — it eased it. It broke my heart, and somehow began to repair it. I didn’t see this coming. It just… came. And I cried. For what felt like a very long time.
It speaks to every man who’s been taught to shoulder pain without shedding it — every caregiver who’s tucked their grief into quiet corners just to make it through the day.
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