Tag: Holiday Albums

Choosing Love, Every Time

By Melanie Grace

Here’s where the album shifts.

After all the fun and chaos and celebration, “I’d Say Yes Again” brings us into deeper territory. This is where gratitude gets personal. Where we acknowledge the choices that brought us here—and the people who made those choices worth making.

This song is about commitment. About looking at someone and thinking, “If I could go back and choose all over again, knowing everything I know now—the hard parts, the messy parts, the imperfect parts—I’d still choose you.”

It works for romantic love, sure. But it’s also about chosen family. About friendships that became something more. About the people who aren’t at your table by accident or obligation, but because somewhere along the way, you both said yes to each other. And you keep saying it.

I wanted “I’d Say Yes Again” to feel intimate and honest. The melody is warm but has weight to it. Because real love—the kind that lasts—isn’t just butterflies and rom-com moments. It’s choosing to stay. It’s saying yes again when things get hard. It’s gratitude for the person who keeps showing up.

Thanksgiving is the perfect time for this reflection. We’re surrounded by the people we’ve chosen (and who’ve chosen us), and “I’d Say Yes Again” gives voice to that profound, often unspoken gratitude.

This is where the album’s emotional arc really begins to deepen. We’ve had our fun. We’ve celebrated. Now we’re settling into what Thanksgiving is really about: acknowledging the relationships that shape our lives and being grateful we get to keep choosing them.

So to the people you’d choose again—and again and again—this song is for you.

And to them.

“I’d Say Yes Again” is track 8 on My Thanksgiving, dropping November 21st.

Smile and Pretend We’re Not Dysfunctional

By Melanie Grace

“Okay, everyone squeeze in!” “Mom, he’s touching me.” “Can we please just take ONE good photo?” “I’m not smiling. This is my face.” “Your eyes were closed. Again.”

If you’ve ever attempted an annual family photo, you know the chaos. The negotiations. The wardrobe malfunctions. The passive-aggressive comments about who stood where. The inevitability that someone will blink in every. Single. Shot.

“Annual Family Photos” is peak Broadway energy for a reason—because family photo time is DRAMA.

I wanted this song to feel theatrical and fun, like a musical number where everyone’s playing their part. Because that’s what family photos are, right? A performance. We’re all pretending to be this coordinated, put-together family for exactly 2.5 seconds while someone yells “Say cheese!”

But here’s the beautiful part: we keep doing it. Every year. Despite the arguments and the awkwardness and the fact that Aunt Linda will definitely complain about her angle. We keep gathering. We keep trying. We keep creating proof that we showed up for each other.

The song captures both the absurdity and the love of it all. The way we simultaneously want to strangle each other and also want to remember this moment forever. The way these imperfect, slightly chaotic photos become our most treasured possessions years later.

This is the energy peak of the album—big, celebratory, a little bit ridiculous, and full of heart. It’s the reminder that family is messy and wonderful and worth commemorating, even when someone’s definitely going to post the worst possible picture of you on Facebook.

So gather up, squeeze in, and for the love of all that’s holy, open your eyes this time.

We’re making memories here.

“Annual Family Photos” is track 6 on My Thanksgiving, dropping November 21st.

The Hardest Part of Thanksgiving

By Melanie Grace

This is it. The song I had to write but almost couldn’t.

“Empty Chairs” is about the people who aren’t at the table anymore.

The grandparent who used to sit at the head. The sibling who’s estranged. The friend who died too young. The parent who’s gone. The relationship that ended. The person who should be here but isn’t, for whatever reason.

Every Thanksgiving table has empty chairs—whether they’re literal or figurative. And while the holiday is about gratitude and togetherness, it’s also about grief. About absence. About the weight of who’s missing.

I wanted this song to hit hard because this feeling hits hard. There’s no way to sugarcoat it or make it easier. So I didn’t try. “Empty Chairs” sits in the pain and lets it be what it is.

The melody is stripped down, raw. Because grief doesn’t need production—it needs space. It needs to be heard and felt and acknowledged before we can move forward.

Here’s what I’ve learned about Thanksgiving: the gratitude and the grief live right next to each other. We can be thankful for who’s here while mourning who’s not. We can celebrate the life we have while honoring the loss we carry. Those feelings don’t cancel each other out—they coexist.

“Empty Chairs” is the emotional core of this album because it’s the emotional core of so many Thanksgivings. We gather. We celebrate. We count our blessings. And we also notice the absences. We also carry the people we’ve lost. We also hurt.

This song doesn’t offer easy answers or false comfort. It just says: I see the empty chair. I know it hurts. You’re not alone in noticing what’s missing.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

Sometimes, being seen in our grief is its own kind of gratitude.

“Empty Chairs” is track 13 on My Thanksgiving, dropping November 21st.

The Journey Is Part of the Holiday

By Melanie Grace

Let’s be real: Thanksgiving traffic is the worst.

The packed highways. The weather delays. That person who absolutely should not be driving but somehow got their license anyway. The GPS rerouting you seventeen times. The gas station bathroom stops. The “Are we there yet?” energy that never quite goes away, even when you’re the one driving.

But also? Some of my best Thanksgiving memories happened in the car.

“Thanksgiving Traffic Memories” is that fun, relatable breather we all need. It’s the song that says, “Yeah, getting there is chaos, but it’s also kind of part of the magic.”

I wrote this with a playful energy because I wanted to capture both the frustration and the humor of the journey. The backseat sing-alongs. The arguments about whether we should’ve left earlier. The random roadside attractions. The way time slows down when you’re stuck in traffic with the people you love (or tolerate).

There’s something about being trapped in a car together that creates intimacy, even when you’re annoyed. You talk about things you wouldn’t otherwise talk about. You laugh at things that aren’t even funny. You make memories in the in-between moments.

This song is a palate cleanser—a fun break in the album’s emotional journey. It acknowledges that Thanksgiving isn’t just the destination; it’s also the getting there. The hours on the road. The pit stops at Cracker Barrel. The debates about the best route. The collective relief when you finally see the exit sign.

So next time you’re stuck in Thanksgiving traffic, crank up this song. Embrace the chaos. Make some memories.

Because years from now, you won’t remember the traffic. You’ll remember who you were with.

“Thanksgiving Traffic Memories” is track 5 on My Thanksgiving, available November 21st.

Growing Up, Looking Back

By Melanie Grace

We’ve all been there. Literally.

The kids table. That smaller table off to the side where the “real” conversations weren’t happening. Where the plastic plates lived. Where you were definitely not getting any wine.

“When I Sat at the Kids Table” is pure nostalgia wrapped in a smile.

It’s about that perspective shift that happens when you finally graduate to the adult table and suddenly you’re looking back at where you came from. And weirdly? You miss it. The simplicity. The silliness. The way everything felt less complicated when your biggest concern was whether you’d get the last dinner roll.

I wanted this song to have an uplifting energy—not sad nostalgia, but the warm, fuzzy kind. The kind that makes you grateful you experienced those moments, even if you can’t get them back exactly as they were.

There’s something bittersweet and beautiful about growing up. About realizing you’re now the one making the mashed potatoes instead of sneaking extra marshmallows off the sweet potato casserole. About sitting at the table where people are talking about mortgages and health insurance instead of arguing about who gets to be player one.

But here’s the thing: we carry the kids table with us. Those memories, that lightness, that version of ourselves that just wanted to have fun and be included—it’s still there. “When I Sat at the Kids Table” is a reminder to keep that part alive, even as we navigate adult Thanksgivings.

So whether you’re still at the kids table (no judgment), just graduated (congrats!), or looking back from years away (hello, fellow adults), this song is for you.

Because we were all kids once. And Thanksgiving remembers.

“When I Sat at the Kids Table” is track 4 on My Thanksgiving, dropping November 21st.