She Loves To Sing!

Some of my earliest memories are of my Dad playing his guitar. Every time we would have company, they would beg him to get out his guitar, and he would gladly oblige them. That is where my love of music and singing came from. I wasn’t even five years old when I started singing along with my dad. He would play the chords and I would chime in on the chorus. Before I hit Preschool, I could pick up a song after hearing it only once. My dad would sing the lead and I, the harmony. My dad’s repertoire included all the old Country Classics from Hank Williams, Willie Nelson, Hank Snow, Roy Acuff and everyone on up the line. I loved them all, including Tammy Wynette, Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, Brenda Lee and Dolly Parton. I sang everywhere I went. By the time I was in fourth grade, I could hit notes only a dog could hear and had a vibrato to rival any professional. I loved Music class! The Spring and Christmas concerts were the highlight of my year. My Mom said she could always pick out my voice from all the rest.

As I traveled through the grades, I was introduced to a formal choir. I had finally found an outlet for my talent. I joined the school choir, the church choir, and was hand- picked to join the Funeral choir. I know, that sounds morbid, but hear me out. The Funeral choir was a small group of girls from the seventh and eighth grades that were chosen by our principal, Sister Collette, (Yes, she was a nun!) to sing at funeral masses in our church. If I remember correctly, there were only six of us. It was quite an honor. Whenever there was a funeral mass scheduled, we would get out of class to attend the mass. Our job was to sing all the hymns and any special songs the family requested. I remember on one occasion the family requested “The Yellow Rose of Texas” to be sung in honor of their father, and I was so excited because I already knew the whole song. In high school, I was in the School Chorus and in the Choir. The Choir was specially chosen to compete against other schools in an annual competition. I was in my glory!

After graduation, as it does, life got more difficult. My younger brother got sick and our “normal” lives flew right out the window. To pass the time and try to keep his mind off of his condition, he and I would sing together a capella. Our harmonies would waft through the house like a soft gentle breeze on a warm summer day. As soon as we would finish one song, we would pick up another. Our voices blended so seamlessly and effortlessly, that one would think they were listening to a recording. To this day, so many years later, every time I hear those songs, I smile with the memory of my brother and what that time meant to us.

When my sons were small, each had their own favorite song that I would sing to them at bedtime every night. The soft, comforting sound of my voice would reassure them that I would always be there.

Just as my voice would calm their young minds, I, too, found solace in a tune. Sometimes it was a hymn I sang from my childhood that would lift the burdens of this life. Or perhaps, it was a melody shared by my Dad and myself, that brightened my day. Other times, it was an upbeat ditty that I would bellow at the top of my lungs just to rejoice being alive. Sometimes it's a favorite song of the dearly departed to honor their life.

Singing has allowed me to express my feelings in such a profound manner. The act of singing, of putting your heart into the written notes, of feeling the words reverberate in your soul, allows you to connect with the Universe each and every time you utter a rhythmic sound. It’s beautiful. It’s humbling. It’s powerful. It’s relaxing. It’s a feeling you just want to share. So, in times of sorrow and in times of joy, singing quiets my mind and calms my soul. You should try it some time!