I wonder why I cannot sing. I honestly cannot carry one single tune. I vaguely remember studying those little black notes in elementary school and being quite the failure at it. Another dreaded memory of my persistent vocal failures is the time I tried out for the Glee Club at school. We each had to sing a designated part of the “Star Spangled Banner”; of course I got the portion of the song that required the highest pitch, you know the line…, “and the rockets red glare, were just bursting in air”. I can still remember the humiliation of it all. I believe my self esteem took a nose dive of at least 50 points that day. However, none of this has stopped me from belting out a song in the privacy of my own home or car when no one else in the world can hear me.
I do sing for my closest family members who cringe at the mere opening of my mouth; nevertheless, I derive so much joy from torturing them with my spontaneous solos. My mother often laments, “Poor Junie, I don’t know why you can’t sing because you want to so much.” Yes mother that is the problem in a nut shell. When my daughter was a baby I always sang songs that I made up at the spare of the moment, little love songs for my special girl. She loved them. Poor baby was tone deaf. Of course that baby is now seventeen years old and threatens to choke me if I dare sing another note in front of her. Where did all the unconditional love go?
Once, a co-worker told me a story about her singing voice. Her voice, by the way, is soulful, strong, and beautiful. She went on to tell me that she could not always sing. At some providential point in her life, she allowed grace to enter and it was at that precise moment that her vocal cords began to ignite in song. It was a miracle. I was amazed by her story and quite honestly, believed every word of it. So, I have concluded that maybe grace will grant me a beautiful voice as well. Until that day I will continue exercising my vocal cords to the horror and astonishment of anyone who happens to be nearby.