He ran off and left us...

I can’t remember how old I was when I bought my first Vic Chesnutt album. 17? 18? It was Little, his first record, on vinyl. That was my vinyl phase.
All I remember is getting swept away by the first strum of “Isadora Duncan.” With that, a life long fan was born.
So it broke my heart to hear of his passing away over Christmas. On a day full of love and friendship, it cast a shadow.
There was just so much to love in his music. The craft of his songwriting. The dark humor and poetry of his lyrics. The nasal twang that could seem full of hope or longing or both. His songs were full of pain and love, tragedy and adventure, the past, the present and the future.
In short, they were full of life. And they enriched my own.
I could go on forever about the songs I love. But I want to keep this short, because I don’t want to spend forever mourning the man and the tragic circumstances of his passing. Instead I would rather just sit here and listen to the music; because that ultimately is the treasure he left us all with.
So I will sit here and sing "Isadora Duncan" to myself, as I have done before and I will do again and again. His life is over, but in his songs are eternal.