By: Ali Elizabeth Turner
Dearest Dolly,
As you are perhaps aware, you are OWNING the airwaves. Or, maybe you are only slightly aware, but you don’t care. That is what makes the most sense to me. You are in a realm and with a company of “praisers” that are all the way around the Throne, and I don’t think that “Earth tones” can begin to compete with what you are hearing, seeing, and singing. The president of the United States has ordered flags across the nation to be flown at half-staff. Your house in Brentwood is plastered with flowers, letters, cards, and more. The Nashville airport is going to be renamed after you. A friend went to Dollywood, and for the first time ever, did not wonder if you might make a surprise appearance. Another friend posted on Facebook, “If you have people in TN, check in on them. We are NOT ok!!” In that particular post, you were sporting the distinctive orange of the Vols, and while in this state of Alabama the Beautiful most folks holler, “Roll Tide!” or “War Eagle!” you can drive down the street and more than one business has posted on their reader board, “I Will Always Love You.” There is absolutely no need for any explanation.
I have known since your passing that I wanted to say something about the way you touched my life, but it seems like it has all been already said. However, I am going to go ahead and write it anyway, and I trust that soon (seconds, actually, in Heaven Central Time) I will be able to tell you face to face. After all, aren’t we going to spend eternity hearing each other’s stories, telling each other the “great things He has done,” and getting comfy with the great cloud of witnesses?
When I was a teenager and you first came on the scene, I did not get you at all. The look, the wigs, the nails, the spangle, the bling, and all the rest made no sense to me. Nevertheless, over time you captured my heart. How did you do that? Well, thankfully I was surrounded by “framily” members who made sure that I began to be “edumacated” regarding all things Dolly. They took me to Dollywood on several occasions. They made sure I knew about your “Coat of Many Colors,” and the remarkable story behind it. They challenged me in my early ‘70s to go on the roller coaster called Thunderhead; I had a blast and hollered my fool head off to prove it. It was at Dollywood that I learned of your heart for literacy, and how hard it had been on your daddy to not be able to read and write. It was there that felt that I got a significant peek into your precious heart, and I know that now you have gone home, you will never again feel the need to go under the knife or joke about modeling your sense of style after the “town tramp.” Never again will you have to look into the camera with a twinkle in your eye and say, “It costs a lot of money to look this cheap.” To say that down here on Earth you were a complete conundrum, my dear, is an understatement. And, I don’t think we would have had it any other way.
With regard to your being a savvy and successful business woman, I am so grateful that you provided 4,000 people with employment in a gorgeous part of the country that had known a level of scarcity that had shaped your soul long ago. As Providence would have it, it was that economic extremity paired with lots of love that made you into you. And, I want you to know that the brisket I had a few weeks ago at the I-65 Exit 22 Dolly Parton Truck Stop is truly some of the best I have ever tasted.
I have thought long and hard about my favorite “Dolly moment,” and I have chosen the video of “There Was Jesus,” because of the great comfort it gave millions, including me. It was fitting that you sang in a barn, dwarfed by Zach Williams. We owe you, girl. We surely miss you. We will always love you, and, we shall see you soon.
With love,
Ali T and the rest of the planet
