Rory Feek releases Joey Feek album, 'If Not For You,' 1 year after her death - National | Globalnews.ca

Introduction:

“In the Garden” is a poignant and deeply personal song by the American country music duo Joey+Rory. The song was written by Rory Feek, the husband and musical partner of Joey Feek, and released on their 2014 album “Hymns.” It gained significant attention and resonated with audiences due to its heartfelt lyrics and the tragic circumstances surrounding its creation.   

The song’s simple yet powerful melody, combined with Joey and Rory’s soulful harmonies, creates an atmosphere of intimacy and reflection. “In the Garden” became a source of comfort and inspiration for many listeners, offering a message of hope and solace during times of trial and loss. It serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring power of love, faith, and the importance of cherishing every moment.

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THE LAST TIME THE CROWD ROSE FOR MERLE HAGGARD — HE WOULD NEVER WALK ONSTAGE AGAIN. They carried him through the doors wrapped in the very flag he once sang about — and in the stillness that followed, there was something almost audible… a fragile echo only lifelong listeners could feel in their bones. Merle Haggard’s story closed the same way it opened: unpolished, honest, and deeply human. From being born in a converted boxcar during the Great Depression to commanding the grandest stages across America, his life unfolded like a country ballad etched in grit, regret, resilience, and redemption. Every lyric he sang carried the weight of lived experience — prison walls, hard roads, blue-collar truths, and hard-earned second chances. Those who stood beside his casket said the atmosphere felt thick, as if the room itself refused to forget the sound of his voice. It wasn’t just grief in the air — it was reverence. A stillness reserved for someone whose music had become stitched into the fabric of ordinary lives. One of his sons leaned close and murmured, “He didn’t really leave us. He’s just playing somewhere higher.” And perhaps that’s the only explanation that makes sense. Because artists like Merle don’t simply vanish. They transform. They become the crackle of an AM radio drifting through a late-night highway. They become the soundtrack of worn leather seats and long stretches of open road. They live in jukebox corners, in dance halls, in quiet kitchens where memories linger longer than the coffee. Somewhere tonight, a trucker tunes in to an old melody. Somewhere, an aging cowboy lowers his hat and blinks back tears. And somewhere in that gentle hum of steel guitar and sorrow, a whisper carries through: “Merle’s home.”