It's difficult to imagine a world without Dolly Parton in it

My mom’s name was also Dolly. For no logical reason, these last couple days I’ve been thinking of her at the same time I’ve been reflecting on Dolly Parton, the famous country singer, entrepreneur, philanthropist, Miss Congeniality to the masses and self-proclaimed “Backwoods Barbie” who died on Aug. 25 at the age of 80. 

My mom was not quite 80 when she died a few years ago.  When something happy came to pass for her or our family, she would smile widely, laugh and exclaim, “Well, my cup runneth over!” It’s an excerpt from a Bible verse, if that matters to anyone, but I just remember it as an expression of pure joy in those moments.

Life isn’t always happy or pleasant but it’s important to remember the good stuff. It’s something I think to myself, and say to other people, quite a lot. 

As a nation flies its flag at half-staff and the good stuff about Dolly Parton pours in from people of all races and walks of life, we know that, figuratively, Parton’s cup truly overflowed with abundance during six-decades in the limelight. While talented as a singer, songwriter and purveyor of optimism, what people are most reflecting on these days is the exceptionally kind and genial person she was.  Certainly, she had blemishes, but no one has any interest in pointing them out.

Her perfectly coiffed hair will be forever kept in place; we all share the joy in Dolly Parton’s life well lived.    

“A cup of ambition,” Parton’s poignant lyric from her 1980 song, “9 to 5,” was poured at a very early age. With the song, “Little Tiny Tasseltop,” a ditty she wrote at the age of five about the ramshackle corncob doll her parents made for her, she began her quest to be rich and famous. By 1980, Parton was a multi-faceted star but still hadn’t gotten her due as a songwriter. (She wrote over 3,000 songs.) 

The hits started coming when she was known as the “girl singer” on the Porter Wagoner Show. She left when her fame began to surpass his and she was shrewd enough to realize it.  In true Dolly fashion, after seven years, she left the show not with acrimony but by writing what many consider her greatest song, “I Will Always Love You,” as a tribute to their friendship. Only after Whitney Houston won a Grammy for her rendition of the song in 1994 did Parton begin to get the respect she deserved as a songwriter. She never dwelled on the fact that people didn’t consider her erudite.  She was an entertainer, a celebrity for the people, for all people. 

In the last few days, I’ve been voraciously reading and listening to everything people have been saying about Parton. I’ve reacquainted myself with some of her best loved songs, like “Wildflowers,” from her 1987 Trio album with Emmylou Harris and Linda Ronstadt. When a flower grows wild/It can always survive/Wildflowers don’t care where they grow.

And “Coat of Many Colors,” the story of the patchwork coat classmates made fun of in her impoverished, rural Tennessee upbringing. Just to find the others laughing/And making fun of me/In my coat of many colors/My mama made for me.  

I’m also diving deeper into her catalogue, checking out songs like “In the Good Old Days (When Times Were Bad),” another autobiographical song from her third solo album (1969), and 1971’s “Joshua,” a Johnny Cash-like country rocker with as much grit and cheekiness as anything from that era. There is also “Travelin’ Thru,” a song from the 2005 movie “Transamerica,” and “Rainbowland,” a tribute to gay pride and liberation, sung with her goddaughter, Miley Cyrus. 

Parton was at the same time famously apolitical and quietly progressive when it came to acceptance of the broad spectrum of human diversity. And, yes, her music is that good, like that classic novel that sits on a shelf, ready to be read whenever we find the time. “Jolene” is quintessential Parton, but it is there alongside dozens of others in her catalog that are just as stunning.     

Eighty years is a long time to live. For Parton, it was certainly a meticulously shaped life, unashamedly enjoyed and generously well-received. But there is sadness in the death of someone who brought so much to a country, a society that has grown increasingly divided. Even with rays of hope, the norm these days for so many of us is slack-jawed and jaded. 

Paul McCartney, my favorite musician of all time, said it well: It will be difficult to imagine a world without Dolly. In one of her final efforts, Parton recorded McCartney’s “Let It Be,” with Paul and Ringo Starr, on her 2023 album of rock music standards. 

So where do we go from here? The answer is in the songs themselves. Performing at the Door County Auditorium the day that Parton died, the female folk trio, I’m With Her, performed a heartfelt, celestial rendition of “Coat of Many Colors.” 

Claire Kelly, a veteran of Appleton’s Mile of Music festival, who is based in Nashville, talked about the joyful serendipity she experienced the week of Parton’s death, witnessing double rainbows and soaring butterflies as she listened to Parton’s music and prepared her own tribute.  And singer May Erlewine, another Mile of Music favorite, who returns to Appleton for a show at Gibson Community Music Hall on Oct. 1, offered this in a Facebook post: “I aim to honor her by digging deeper and singing prouder for the people.”

My mom wasn’t a singer and she never had a lot of money. But, like the other Dolly, she cared about people, picked her spots to be self-effacing and wanted the best for everyone.  She also wore a wig, like Ms. Parton, for many years of her life.  

A cup of ambition? Yes, we need the hope, a burning desire, that little incentive if only to keep going, dig deeper, keep working for those moments in life when it feels right to say, “my cup runneth over.” Even in a world without Dolly, her songs, her guiding light and a fresh cup of ambition will always be there. 

It's difficult to imagine a world without Dolly Parton in it © 2026 by Scott Peeples is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0