A letter to Sean

Dear Sean,

I finally got a chance to meet you last night when you were in Albuquerque. But I didn’t.

You see, my husband had open heart surgery less than two weeks ago, and he simply couldn’t stay any longer. I had to skip the meet and greet after your show.

This morning, as I drove to day three of the Public Safety Resiliency Summit, where I’m hosting a table, I reflected on all your stories that I have read over the past few years. You are resilient. You also highlight stories of resilience as you share the lives of beautiful people like Morgan and Becca. The Waffle House waitress, the people you met on the Camino de Santiago, and Marigold are all members of the resiliency club.

As I’ve learned over the years, and through various conference sessions I’ve attended, resilience isn’t simply surviving pain or tragedy. It’s an intentional mindset that recognizes the hard and ugly parts of life, processes the grief and trauma, all while intentionally looking for ways to recapture breath, sunshine, and joy.

This, I think, is why I’m so drawn to your storytelling.

People have pain. That is a reality of life. It is those who look to extend love, generosity, and hope despite the pain who stir our hearts and inspire us to think differently.

While I’m disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to meet you last night, I did get to meet your lovely wife. Despite the fact that she wished a “Roll Tide” over my LSU-loving brother-in-law, she was lovely and embraced me as if we were fast friends. I think perhaps we are.

I wish you all the love and success as you continue on your Sean of the South tour, and I’m glad to know that so many other communities will get to experience your incredible talent. You are an extraordinary musician and channeled the joy and cheekiness of Dolly, who passed into glory this very same day.

Your ginger sister in ABQ,

Birga