The last time I listened to "Silent in the Morning" by Phish was over five years ago, when I was landing in San Diego International Airport. My older sister and I had gone to our step-aunt's wedding for the weekend, but the day before, we got word that my mom had been in a bad car accident.

She hauls trailers for a living, and had a fifth-wheel flip over while she was on the freeway. It overturned her truck, smashing the roof into the cab and leaving the truck looking like this.

We flew up to Sacramento immediately and spent hours trying to figure out where she was and how she was. No one knew, we just knew that she was still alive because one of the people who stopped to help her called my little sister. When I finally got in touch with the emergency room that was treating her, they said that she was okay but was crying a lot. I tried to get them to put her on the line, but they said that they couldn't.

Through all of this, I was practicing being a grounding presence. My sisters were really freaked out and I knew that Mom would need support, so I practiced what I would say when I first saw her in the emergency room. "What's a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?" I said it to myself over and over so that my voice wouldn't crack.

Somehow, she managed to escape with only a head wound. I spent the rest of the weekend fending off family members (my family loves drama), and stayed stable the whole time.

Then, I was landing in San Diego. The landing gear was down, the wheels were about to touch pavement, and I was listening to Phish. "Silent in the Morning" came on, and for some reason it just nuked the emotional dam that I had spent the weekend erecting. I pulled out my headphones, concentrated with everything that I had to keep myself from breaking down, and managed to make it to the moment when I closed the door of my friend's car, which was waiting to take me home.

I have no desire to ever listen to that song again.