And in all the thousands and thousands of times I sang along to “Down from Dover” over the years, never once did I think that maybe that song was preparing me. Not for the heartbreak of your man leaving, but for the shock and force of holding my own stillborn child.

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I can remember the nurses and the doula gently going through a list of things I may want to do to create a comforting space to push my dead son into the world. And one of the things they suggested was my favorite music. “No. No music.” I was adamant. I knew anything I played be ruined forever.

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“And she pulls my head down to her enormous breasts and starts gently patting my back, going, ‘I know, honey. I know. Just let it out.’ “Can you believe it?! Dolly Parton comforted me through the experience of meeting Dolly Parton!”

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“So there I was,” he told me by the first-floor POS station, “telling Dolly about the colic and the military base and my poor young mom, and I can barely get the words out because I’m crying so hard. I’m hyperventilating…

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That was how the rest of his childhood went. His dad away blowing something up, him and his mom at home, happy and loving and listening to Dolly. When he was all grown up and pursuing his Broadway dreams, they went on their ultimate dream vacation together, to Dollywood. And she was there.

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