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  • Writer's picturejodi

Choir

Listening to the songs of the holidays,

Christmas music playing in my vehicle

during my commute,

while running errands.

Triggering that little spark of joy

and hope.

And as I cook dinner tonight,

listening to the lyrics and notes that I've known all of my life

or at the very least

as long as I can remember.

It brings my mind to memories of childhood.

More specifically to Choir.

I was in Choir.

Surprising?

Not Surprising?

I don't know.

It was just a "thing" when I was in grade school.

Or at least its was for me.

The voices ~

all in harmony.

Or at least trying to be.

Connectivity.

We all need that.


Marshmallow World ~

I know it word for word.

My husband claims he's never heard it before.

He was never in Choir.

Singing in Rounds.

He doesn't get that either.


I remember standing on a bleachers,

well actually folding bleachers that they brought into the gymnasium

for us to stand upon and sing.

They were partially carpeted,

dress shoes are slippery.

I remember feeling important.

Special.

Like I had a voice.


But I do.

I do have a Voice.


I just think that I lost it for a while.


Or perhaps

it's just

that

in the last few years

I've become less afraid

to actually use it.


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