02/22/2026
Well this has nothing to do with Solar. Something far more important….. People….
Over the past while, I’ve been sharing some of the music and deeply personal work I’ve been creating.
Those pieces have opened conversations I didn’t fully expect — about grief, love, memory, and the things that remain in us after life changes or loss.
Out of one of those conversations, something very sacred emerged.
A while ago, my friend Tonya reached out to me and said:
“Can you help me with something?”
I told her yes.
Then she said,
“I’ve wanted to write a song about how I feel.”
Tomorrow marks seven years since her husband, Greg, took his life.
There are dates that never pass quietly.
They return carrying everything with them — love, memory, questions, ache.
She wanted words for what still lives inside her —
love that did not end the day Greg died.
As she shared her heart, we began shaping a song from her to him.
That song became “Where I Still Hold You.”
But while we were creating it, something unexpected happened.
I felt a quiet, unmistakable impression —
that Greg’s love for her had not ended,
and that there was something he would want her to hear.
So a second song came.
A response.
A love letter back.
That song became “One More Time.”
Two voices.
One love.
Still connected.
Tomorrow — on the seven-year anniversary of Greg’s death —
both songs release on Spotify at 9:00 a.m. under Only Hope.
I’m sharing the teaser here with Tonya’s permission and trust:
https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1Hv2MjQsha/?mibextid=wwXIfr
We’re sharing them on this date intentionally.
Not only for those who have lived through su***de loss,
but for anyone who has ever carried love beyond loss —
the loss of a spouse,
a child,
a parent,
health,
or even love that once lived and is no longer here in the same way.
Because some bonds do not end with death,
or illness,
or separation,
or time.
And even after loss, something else can remain too:
hope.
Hope that love is not erased.
Hope that connection is not gone.
Hope that what was real still matters.
Hope that healing is possible without forgetting.
They remain.
They speak.
They still hold.
— Milo
