A few years ago I was working as a chaplain in a children’s hospital. This one Thursday I was attending a seminar on music and healing. The woman hosting the seminar was a folk singer and guitarist. She and I had spoken earlier of the healing nature of the Grateful Dead, in fact, a few specific songs. My supervisor and I had a difference of opinion about what I was supposed to be doing at the time which ended in an assertion that I would not follow her orders. Later that day I found myself crying, the folk singer was playing Ripple right behind me, my supervisor was holding me, and a fellow chaplain, a man like a brother, was dead. Later that night while I listened to Broke Down Palace the words, “When there were no wings to fly, you flew to me,” came alive.

That night I listened to American Beauty over and over again, and got excessively drunk. I can’t help but think about that day that place, those tears, and my friend Wade whenever I hear this album. And it is that simple fact that I have a hard time “rehearing” this album. The connection is so strong that I had felt for a long time there was nothing new to learn from this album. I found over the years when I needed to return to reality or find inspiration from the heavens I would play this album, sometimes the whole things, but often simply the B side, starting with Ripple.

Of course there is always something new to learn, or maybe even something old, like meaning before that occurrence of death. I bought the album originally on CD because it had a few songs I knew and one I wanted. I knew Sugar Magnolia, Truckin, and so forth but I wanted Friend of the Devil. In fact, I had always assumed the latter song a good title for my autobiography. There are other personal draws to this album, it frequently references places I have been, or even lived. Candyman is its own little trip, I don’t think I actually heard the words until I was living in Memphis learning to talk the jive.

I spent a lot of time trying to “figure out” this album, and over time I have figured out that all I really figured out is that, trying to understand the dead is a deep pool of confusion and joy. I think that is why it’s my inspirational music, my personal hymnody. There is always something I missed, something they intended or something they didn’t. When I get stuck, there is beauty in this music, when I feel alone there is love. This album rests upon a fountain that was not made by hands of men.

Their name alone reminds us that time Box of Rain is short, that from the moment we start breathing we start dying, but there is something great about that. Encouraging us to own our moments, because there is such a long long time to be gone and a short time to be there.