To Sing Again

     One of the things I noticed when I became an empty nester is that I did not sing around the house anymore. When my children were little, I sang them lullabies. They enjoyed them, I know that because they used to make requests when I tucked them in at night. Tracy's was often the very simple "Lullaby and Goodnight." I would sing "I Went to the Animal Fair" to keep them calm while I washed their hair at bath time. Later they learned songs at church and school and taught them to me so we could sing them together. To this day, the only way I can remember the 10 Commandments in order is by the song "The Perfect Ten". Singing seemed to make the housework less tedious, the coming holidays more exciting, the house more like a home. For years playing guitar and singing was a comforting part of my routine. But when they reached tweens and teens, the kids made new requests--"Stop singing!" But I did not, because I was too happy being a mom to keep it inside.
     After the kids grew up and left home, I turned on the television or radio to make housework less tedious. My guitar sits in the corner of our bedroom gathering dust. I should take it downstairs but keep thinking, maybe someday . . . I still know the words and melodies and, of course, I sing at church, but I had lost the desire to sing at home. However, when the time came to calm a dying friend struggling against being on a ventilator, my default setting was to sing to her--softly, calmly, stroking her hand, warming her up for the much better music she would hear in heaven.
   In June my granddaughter was born so there was an audience for my lullabies again. I have even tried to upgrade my repertoire by adding a few new songs, but I am hampered in learning lyrics by the fact that my memory bank is full of all the commercial jingles from my childhood, and there seems to be no way to withdraw those memories and deposit new ones. I would rather remember the lyrics of "Ancient Words" than "N-e-s-t-l-e-s, Nestles make the very best CHOCOLATE". It is frustrating to love a song, yet not remember all the words, songs like: "Wonderful, Merciful Savior",  or "Beyond the Throne of God Above". I am having a little better luck with a song from the movie "Tangled", called "Now That I See You". Partially because the verses are similar, but also because the end of the chorus identifies why having a granddaughter has enabled me to sing again, "All at once, everything is different, now that I see you".