Inspiration: Ain’t No Mountain High Enough
Listen baby, ain't no mountain high
Ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough, baby
If you need me call me, no matter where you are
No matter how far, don't worry, baby
Just call my name, I'll be there in a hurry
You don't have to worry
'Cause, baby, there ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you, babe
Remember the day I set you free
I told you you could always count on me, darling
From that day on, I made a vow
I'll be there when you want me
Some way, somehow
'Cause, baby, there ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you, babe
Oh no, darling
No wind, no rain
Or winter's cold can stop me, baby, na na, baby
'Cause you are my goal
If you're ever in trouble
I'll be there on the double
Just send for me, oh, baby, ha
My love is alive (woo)
Way down in my heart
Although we are miles apart
If you ever need a helping hand
I'll be there on the double
Just as fast as I can
Don't you know that there
Ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you, babe
Don'tcha know that there
Ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
Ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Nickolas Ashford / Valerie Simpson
Ain’t No Mountain High Enough lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
For us, Ain’t No Mountain High Enough is not about romance. It is about reach. It is about the invisible geography of a family that has crossed real terrain. Illness. addiction. fear. distance. misunderstanding. years that bent instead of flowed. When the song says there is no mountain, no valley, no river wide enough, I hear what we have already walked through without knowing we were brave.
Family is not held together by comfort. It is held together by return. By calling out into the dark and trusting someone will answer. We have all had seasons when we were far even when we were close. Miles inside our own heads. Frozen in our own storms. This song becomes our agreement that no one gets left there permanently. If you need me, call me. That line is not sentimental in our house. It is practical. It is spiritual. It is survival.
“Remember the day I set you free.” That is what love inside a family really does. It releases without abandoning. It lets each of us become who we are without disappearing from one another. As a mother, as a partner, as a woman learning herself over and over again, I know how hard that balance is. Hold and let go. Stay and allow change. The song understands that tension and turns it into promise.
What I love most is the insistence on motion. I will be there in a hurry. Not someday. Not when it is easy. Now. Love is not something we store. It is something we travel with. We cross winters of mood, rivers of memory, mountains of pride. We do it tired. We do it imperfectly. But we do it.
When we share this song, we are really saying:
You are not unreachable.
You are not too far gone.
You are not too complicated to come back to.
My love is alive way down in my heart. Alive means breathing, stumbling, repairing, forgiving, learning. Our family love is not polished. It is practiced. It shows up. It answers. It keeps walking toward each other even when the ground tilts.
So this song becomes our quiet anthem. Not about being unbreakable, but about being willing. Willing to cross whatever rises between us. Willing to keep choosing each other. Willing to arrive, again and again, with open hands and an answering voice that says, I’m here.
