The meaning of a song

"I release you though it's hard to say the words. I release you from the darkness...I hope that someday, the sun will shine again, and you'll release me, too."

Posted 2:48 p.m. Feb 21 — Updated 2:48 p.m. Feb 21

Andrea Osborne

, WRAL contributor

I’m famous for hearing song lyrics wrong or mixing up the words. If I had a nickel for every time my daughter eye-rolled or laughed at the way I sing a line wrong, I’d be wealthy enough to retire. Go figure. I guess I sing to the beat of my own drummer.

One of the many things I love about music is how the song truly is up to the listener. A musician can write a song about an experience or a person, but the song can have a universal truth that reaches beyond the specifics of its origin.

Recently I had the absolute joy and privilege of seeing Grace Potter in concert at the Lincoln Theatre in Raleigh. (Part of That Station’s terrific Live at the Lincoln! series.) A kind friend invited me. I like Grace’s music and have always wanted to see her. The night turned out to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. My friend and I were both blown away by what we saw and heard. It was one of those magical concerts when the band and audience were in perfect sync. Grace blew the top off the place, buoyed by the energy we were giving.

Grace Potter in concert at the Lincoln Theatre (Andrea Osborne)

At one point in the show, she slowed things down, her band left the stage, and she decided to treat us with what’s probably my favorite song of hers. “Release” is a slow ballad, and she poured everything she had in it that night. Moved herself to tears and awed the crowd.

That she chose to sing it that night really struck me because “Release” has special significance for me.

The song is likely about a break-up, but for me, that song has always been about Mom. I would sometimes listen to it on repeat driving home from a visit to her at her memory care facility.

Lines jumped out at me the first time I heard it; I grabbed on to the sweeping chorus: “I release you though it’s hard to say the words. I release you from the darkness...I hope that someday, the sun will shine again, and you’ll release me, too.”

It was my dearest wish for my mom to be able to let go and forget me. I know she spent a good part of her dementia journey scared. Scared of forgetting me and my brother and my dad. Frightened of losing her mind. All three of us fervently hoped for the day she would fall into the abyss in her mind and just be able to be at peace in the moment, not scared of forgetting us or anything else. We pledged to be there with her every step of the way, whether she knew who we were or not.

So, I prayed that she could release me. I had determined it was okay for her not to know me, that we could still enjoy each other anyway. In my mind I was singing, “I release you” and hoped for her “someday the sun will shine again, and you’ll release me, too.”

That’s the beauty of a song. I made Grace Potter’s amazing song a vehicle for what I needed. I’m eternally grateful to that masterful goddess of music for that gift.

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Andrea Osborne is Capitol Broadcasting Company’s director of content. She has a daughter in college and last year she lost her mother who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She will be sharing her family’s journey here on WRAL’s family section.

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