To The Indigo Girls: A 25-Year Thank You Note

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Have you ever heard the saying about the path to Hell being paved with good intentions? Well, I’ve had every intention of writing this letter for a decade now, and it’s finally time to bring it to life. This is a thank you note that’s been a quarter-century in the making. Let me share my story.

I first discovered the Indigo Girls during my teenage years, listening to their music on the way to cross-country meets, bouncing along on the worn vinyl seats of my family’s car on the backroads of Pennsylvania. Whether muddy and exhausted on the way home or energized for a race, their songs filled my ears through the static of my cassette tapes. Emily and Amy’s lyrics resonated with me, reflecting on fake friendships—the kind I too had experienced. Their music reassured me that I’d eventually find true connections, and I held onto their words. They sang about love and loss, nature and resilience, and back then, that was a rarity among female artists. Most pop songs of the time were more about superficiality than depth. The Indigo Girls stood apart with their soaring harmonies and authentic, thought-provoking lyrics.

Reflecting on those bus rides, I realize how their music offered solace amid adolescent struggles. They opened a window of hope, showing me that I could emerge from my teenage years as a strong woman. Fast forward seven years: I was newly graduated from college when tragedy struck. My father passed away unexpectedly at 48. I was alone, thousands of miles from home, grappling with a sense of loss that felt insurmountable. In my grief, I returned home to support my mother, trying to find comfort in mundane chores. But the weight of loss was heavy, and I cursed the beautiful world around me.

During this time, I turned to music, though I was still clouded by sorrow. I picked up Swamp Ophelia and played it while moving through my grief. One day, while carrying a basket of laundry, I heard “The Wood Song” and felt the lyrics seep into my heart:

“But the wood is tired, and the wood is old,
And we’ll make it fine, if the weather holds.
But if the weather holds, we’ll have missed the point,
That’s where I need to go.”

These words hit me with a wave of recognition. In that moment, I felt a flicker of hope and the possibility of joy returning to my life. It was as if the music had lifted the fog of my sorrow, and for the first time in months, I could truly feel again.

Fast forward another 15 years. I’m now a mother of two daughters, a full-time teacher, and a part-time writer. As I approach my 40th birthday, I head to a concert at Higher Ground in Burlington, Vermont, eager to see the Indigo Girls once more. This time, I’m closer than ever to the stage, witnessing their passion and artistry up close. They embody the same fire that inspired me 25 years ago, teaching me the importance of living passionately and authentically. Their performance was a gift that filled my soul.

Another two years fly by, and my family embarks on a cross-country road trip. I crank up “Get Out the Map” and “Closer to Fine,” singing at the top of my lungs—an essential ritual for any journey. My youngest, just eight years old, listens intently and declares, “I love the Indigo Girls.” I smile and respond, “So do I, sweetheart. So do I.” One day, I’ll share with her the stories of my teenage years, the stairs, and that unforgettable concert. The circle of girlhood into womanhood continues.

Thank you, Emily and Amy, for your incredible art. It may have taken me 25 years to express my gratitude, but like fine wine, this note has only gotten better with time, just like you both.

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In summary, the Indigo Girls have profoundly impacted my life through their music, guiding me through both tumultuous and joyous times. Their messages of authenticity, resilience, and hope have not only shaped my teenage years but continue to inspire me as I navigate motherhood and beyond.

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