If ever a book sang the blues it would be Cormac McCarthy's The Road. After reading the book a couple of years ago I heard they were making the movie, and I vowed then never to watch it. I felt it too personal, that somehow Cormac had delved into some of the greatest fears of my soul. The loneliest parts of single parenthood, places you could not give a name. Yet he did. His voice was a slow acoustic guitar in a dark, smokey room void of even a breath. The song, that Papa's song, sang of loyalty, responsibility and love like no other.
I watched the movie last night. The entire movie. Then I wept.
Sometimes it feels important to think that someone understands something you barely understand yourself. Cormac did that for me in one of the purest, most beautiful songs I've ever heard. A song of hope.