"You Don't Have to Cry" (Crosby, Stills & Nash)

Having an eidetic memory is a double-edged sword.  On the one hand, I have this storehouse of vivid memories of even the most mundane moments with loved ones.  On the other hand, every embarrassing and painful incident from youth can be referenced just as easily.
So what does that have to do with "You Don't Have to Cry" by Crosby, Stills & Nash?
When I was 3, our next door neighbors moved away.  They were the only people with kids my age in our rural neighborhood, and their departure upset me quite a bit.  (Especially when it finally sank in that they were moving to Iowa—a state that was almost 1,000 miles away, and not Etowah—a town that was just five minutes away.)
Before they left, they had a massive yard sale, and I went with my dad to do the neighborly thing: say our goodbyes and buy a few things.  We ended up with a couple of hand tools and a copy of Crosby, Stills & Nash's 1969 debut album.  When we got home, Dad put the album on the stereo.  We sat, lounging on the sofa—"cooling it" (as Dad liked to say), listening to those indelible three-part CSN harmonies.  For some reason, it suddenly hit me that I probably wouldn't see Chrissy and Dylan again, and I started to bawl.  Dad kept asking what was wrong, and I tried to express what was going through my little kid brain, but all that came out was something like: "BUH-BUH-sniffle-sniffle-UGH-UGH-sniffle-sniffle."
Call it serendipity or coincidence, but the album hit track #4, "You Don't Have to Cry," at that very moment.  And when I heard the chorus (Cry, my baby / You don't have to cry / I said, cry, my baby / You don't have to cry), it was like a personal message: I didn't have to worry, I didn't have to be sad, and my pals would be fine in Iowa (wherever the heck that was).  I calmed right down.
Ever since, it has been a song I turn to when I need a little reminder that things could always be worse.
But that's not really what the song is about.  Stephen Stills wrote it about his ex-girlfriend, folk singer Judy Collins, addressing the fact that she chose the trappings (and traps) of fame over their relationship, leaving him heartbroken.  (The track "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" also is a chronicle of their doomed relationship.)
Incidentally, "You Don't Have to Cry" also was the first song the trio ever performed together.  Stills (who'd recently left Buffalo Springfield) and Crosby (who'd just been kicked out of The Byrds) met in 1968 at a party at Mama Cass Elliot's house in the Hollywood Hills.  Story goes, when Elliot heard the two harmonizing, she immediately knew her buddy Graham Nash, who was looking to leave The Hollies, would be the perfect third voice to round out the vocals.  So she arranged for Nash to meet Crosby and Stills at her place.  They played through "You Don't Have to Cry" twice as Nash sat and listened.  The third time through, Nash added his high harmony, and they immediately knew they had a group.