This past weekend, our daughter participated in “100 Years Of Broadway” at her high school.
She had never done anything like this before and wanted to surprise us (which she certainly did).
She has always been very shy about singing in front of us. The only time we have ever heard her sing is when she is in the shower. We were watching TV one night when a most heavenly sound floated downstairs. I muted the TV and we listened, spellbound to the clear, beautiful voice coming from above. I even went to stand outside the bathroom door so I could hear better.
The haunting, gorgeous sound literally brought tears to my eyes.
We heaped praise on Julia when she came downstairs but she was so embarrassed that we let it go. She has never been one to seek the spotlight.
So imagine our surprise when she invited us to opening night to watch her perform!
She had decided that since this is her senior year, she would go for it and try something she had never done before.
Her solo was “Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better” with another cast member.
She was a revelation.
She was bold.
She was fearless.
Her voice soared through the auditorium and we were amazed.
Later, she told us that person after person went through the cast line and said “I had NO idea that you could sing!”
Julia had broken out of her comfort zone and it was a beautiful thing to behold.
And as I watched her receiving praise, it reminded me not to sell anyone short, as we have no idea what talent might be lying dormant that will leave us stunned with wonder when it is finally revealed.
Let’s never think that we know all there is to know about our loved ones. There is always more to discover if we are willing to see, to listen, to ask.
“Send In The Clowns” had me stifling laughter. Several decades ago, my family and I attended my cousin Bobby’s wedding. As soon as we opened up the program, my dad and I burst out laughing, right there in the pew. There it was, right before the processional: “Send In The Clowns.”
This struck us as so hysterically funny that we could not contain ourselves. The harder we tried to stifle the laughter, the more we failed until we were red-faced and helpless to stop the mirthful tears.
“Stop it!” my mom hissed, mortified by our shenanigans.
By the time the bride walked down the aisle, we had managed to compose ourselves. But I can never hear that song without a smile breaking across my face.
“Try To Remember” brought a sweet ache to my heart. That was one of my dad’s favorite songs and I have many memories of him singing it.
And there was the joy of all those classic Broadway songs that had toes tapping and hands clapping. A true feel-good evening was had by all and the applause was prolonged and enthusiastic for these talented kids.
She mentioned that she loved the song “Try To Remember.”
I told her that that was one of her grandad’s favorite songs. Then I mentioned that she must have inherited her amazing singing voice from him. (He was the only member of our family who could sing).
“I remember him singing all the time,” she said wistfully.
Julia was only 5 years old when her beloved grandad died so I’ve never been sure how much she remembers of the man who adored her.
I love that music still binds them together across the years and that a part of him still lives on in her.