I was 10 when Prince first came through my speakers; Controversy didn't just play; it supernaturally reached inward and touched my soul. From that moment, it wasn't just music, Prince somehow knew me, the songs became an escape from everything around me – the trauma, violence and fear. They became my safe place.
There's the memorabilia I've collected, the countless times I saw Purple Rain or how much money spent on concerts. The tweet he replied to. Treasures only a lifelong fan would understand. Meeting Prince and sharing what his music meant, telling him about my little boy who, so inspired after witnessing his first Prince concert perched on daddy's shoulders, spent days singing into a broomstick performing for the neighborhood, I'm certain that joyful image inspired the Musicology video.
Prince's music held me through cancer, my hubby's near-fatal car accident, health scares, stress of running a business, the beautiful chaos of raising kids, losses, tears and laughter.
When Prince died, the music that carried me fell quiet. It hurt too much to listen, to face that it would be no more.
In sadness, I found Paisley. A tiny black and white Toy Cavoodle in a pet shop window, pressing his paw to the glass as if he already knew my heart. With a love at first sight whisper something inside softened "I adore you already."
That puppy was my joy, my love, my healing, he understood me without a single word. Needing me in that uncomplicated way only a dog can. Paisley Park became our anthem, and the music found its way back to me through him. It was like my love and grief for Prince had manifested into a whimpering fluffy little heartbeat, following me from room to room, stitching me back together with every step. The quiet place my heart landed, the loving little being who clung to me like I was his whole world, curling into the hollow places life had carved out.
Then the unthinkable happened. At doggy day care, a man took his life, and the law reduced my baby to "damaged property." The tiny heartbeat that had sewn me back together, who reunited me with my Prince was gone, and I broke all over again. Dark days followed, shaped by life's other tragedies and ones that hit without warning. Not wanting to worry my family I weathered them quietly but this time without Paisley.
God made me stronger than I believed and I leaned into Him and my family's love. I am slowly healing and forever grateful for the two souls who lifted me when I needed it most. I still see them in dreams, peaceful and whole, woven into the same melody. Beautiful Paisley and the GOAT himself, serenading my fur baby with his guitar and the most angelic version of Paisley Park. My tiny soulmate and the man whose music raised me, a reminder that love is everlasting and they will always be, forever in my life.
