By: Roy Abraham

The speakers hum with silence now. The mic, once cradled in his hand, sits untouched. In the room where music used to pulse like a second heartbeat, you can almost still hear something: grief, memory, love.

For Michael Burns, the music didn’t stop when his career ended. It paused the day his mother passed away.

But the story didn’t end there.

A Song Interrupted: Resuming Life After Loss isn’t just the title of his book. It’s a phrase that reflects what it feels like to lose the person whose love formed the rhythm of your life. For Michael Burns, that person was his mother. The woman who raised him, shaped him, and supported him. Her passing marked not just an absence, but an interruption. A silence he wasn’t ready for.

Born and raised in Houston, Texas, Michael Burns’ world has always been shaped by rhythm. First through music, later through numbers, systems, and stories. With a degree in Accounting from the University of Houston and a career that spanned aviation, revenue management, and IT project management, he learned early on how to bring order to chaos.

The Silence That Speaks

Grief doesn’t always show up the way we expect. It’s not always in tears or loud heartbreak. Sometimes, it’s quiet. It’s the pause in a conversation when you remember they’re not here to answer. It’s the urge to call her after a long day. It’s the weight of her favorite song playing in a grocery store aisle.

This book doesn’t try to resolve grief. It lets it breathe. It gives it space. A Song Interrupted doesn’t rush toward healing. It walks with you through the fog. In its pages, Michael Burns offers no clichés, but rather clarity. The clarity of what it means to lose your anchor and still begin to float again.

Legacy in Lyrics

Before he was an author, Michael Burns was a musician, a storyteller in rhythm and rhyme. Now, he tells a different kind of story. One that doesn’t start on stage, but in hospital rooms, kitchen chairs, and silent prayers. He writes of a son becoming a man in the absence of the woman who made him one.

This isn’t a memoir filled with timelines and milestones. It’s a deeply human account of what happens when someone you love deeply dies, and you’re left standing in the echo. It’s a meditation on presence, on what it means to carry someone forward in your spirit when they’re no longer beside you in the physical world.

A Melody That Lives On

But A Song Interrupted isn’t only about pain. It’s about memory as music. It’s about how love can outlive loss. It’s about the strength it takes to keep singing when the person who taught you the words is no longer there. Healing isn’t about forgetting. It’s about integration.

Every chapter can be seen as a step forward, not away from his mother, but with her. Carrying her wisdom, her voice, her rhythm.

What We Carry Forward

A Song Interrupted is for anyone who has lost a mother, or anyone who has lost someone who felt irreplaceable. It’s for those still stumbling through the quiet. Those who can’t explain what they feel, only that something is missing.

Through memories, raw moments, and honesty, Michael Burns doesn’t just share his grief. He shares his love. And in doing so, he invites readers to consider that healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means remembering better. With grace. With space. With time.

More Than a Memory

Some people write to be heard. Michael Burns writes so others don’t feel alone.

This book is his way of saying that he’s been there. He’s still here. And maybe, together, readers can find a way forward.

A Song Interrupted: Resuming Life After Loss isn’t a farewell.

It’s a tribute. A journal of remembrance.

A son’s commitment to keep singing, even in the silence.