A World Without Dolly Parton is No World at All

The news hit the way all modern dread does, on a phone screen. For me, it was a shared link from a friend with a single sad-face emoji. Dolly Parton's show will not go on—at least not right now. The undisputed queen of showgirls is postponing her Vegas residency, citing health challenges. "I am not going to be able to rehearse and put together the show that I want you to see, and that you deserve," she said, before reassuring us all, "and don't worry about me quittin' the business because God hasn't said anything about stopping yet."

Still, the news comes on the heels of her husband of nearly 60 years, Carl Dean, passing, and it hits hard. A superstitious fear creeps in: they were together for a lifetime, and often when one half of a long-devoted couple goes, the other isn't far behind. The question feels both immediate and terrifying: Are we approaching a world without Dolly Parton?

The thought of losing her now is unbearable. Please, not Dolly. Not now. This feeling is more than just sadness over a beloved celebrity; it’s a genuine fear. In a world of jagged, bleeding division, the only damn thing anyone seems to agree on is that we all love Dolly Parton.

That desperate need for a unifying force is precisely what triggers the next stage of panic. I begin a morbid bargaining, offering the cosmos alternatives. Take Trump, take Biden. For God’s sake, Ghislaine Maxwell is somewhere being kept alive at the American taxpayer's expense. Yet, even as a dark joke, the thought feels wrong. Bargaining with death takes on a different meaning in a culture that treats execution as a method of public discourse. In a time when holding a different opinion can have mortal consequences, we need more Dolly Parton, not less.

Let's hope what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas and these health concerns are not the early signs that we must prepare for a world without Dolly. But maybe, just maybe, we never really will. The truth is, my life—and yours—won’t be the same when Dolly’s gone from this earth. But in all the ways she exists now, she’ll continue to exist for all of us. Forever. Because Dolly Parton is not just a singer. She’s an idea. A feeling. Dolly is the glue holding together pieces of a fractured culture that agrees on almost nothing—except her.

When you really think about it, Dolly has already achieved a kind of immortality. She is the Imagination Library, putting books into the hands of millions of children. She is the million-dollar donation that helped fund a vaccine. She is the witty, self-deprecating comeback that reminds us not to take ourselves too seriously. She is the Patron Saint of Loving Who You Love and Being Who You Are.

Even after Dolly does finally quit the 9 to 5 for good, she will still be with us. She’ll be there in the opening chords of “Jolene,” a sound that can raise the hairs on your arms in any bar in the world. She’ll be there in the endless visuals from a television career spanning sixty years. We might even see more of her. The news of her passing will be so enormous that those who somehow missed out on the gift she has been will be introduced and fall in love with her, too. Imagine a surge in her social media presence, perhaps even a "Dolly AI" that will make Dolly collaborations available to any aspiring song writer. She'll even be there in scent through her fragrance, Dolly - Scent From Above, and she will continue to thrill us through a trip to Dollywood, the Dollyest place on earth, which through metal and cement plants her legacy on earth for as long as there is joy to be had.

So maybe life won’t be plunged into darkness when she’s gone. Because in all the ways she exists for me now—a voice in my ear, a flash of sequins on a screen, a symbol of radical kindness—she will exist for all of us. Always.

But still stay with us a while longer, Dolly. We’re not ready to let you go. God hasn’t said anything about stopping yet, and neither have we.