Mom has sung all her life. She loved being a part of choirs in church and her community. She was a soprano except for a few duets with me in later years when she chose to sing the alto harmony. She still has a lovely voice and loves to sing, but as the dementia progressed, she became confused by the words and the notes and couldn’t follow along in new music.
I’ve spoken often of Mom’s insistence on making her children play the piano. For more on this, read here. I also started a community choir because of her lack of mobility and diminishing ability. (Read more here). I have had many of the performance opportunities in my life because of her or for her sake.
Even when we weren’t performing together, Mom was a faithful part of the audience. I cannot think of more than a handful of my performances that she missed – and she always had a good reason for missing (birth of a grandchild or a trip with Dad.) She supported me not only with her presence, but also with new clothes for the occasion if needed. My favorite conducting suit was bought on one of our last shopping outings to the Mall of Georgia.
I have many opportunities to perform now and I miss her at every one. This weekend is a Mountain Voices concert (Friday night at Clarkesville UMC at 7:00) and I’ll miss her terribly. I never conduct a performance with MV without thinking of her. Often I will use the piece of music she used when she sang with the group so I can see her handwriting through the whole rehearsal season.
In MV, for seven years and over 20 concerts, she was the queen mother. She would sit on the front row in a chair in the far right of the soprano section. Because of her difficulty in moving, she would stay there for the whole performance, even as the children or small groups would sing. When she wasn’t singing, she was a beautiful angel enjoying all the other groups. She was a centerpiece for our concerts.
I often wondered back then if I would be able to continue with Mountain Voices after she couldn’t sing with us. I knew the kids would grow up and others would leave the group because of relocation or time issues. We have even had some graduate to the heavenly choir. Although I miss each of them, I knew the loss of Mom would be devastating to my emotional connection to the choir. Fortunately, Mom’s music lives on through my memories.
I know some musicians who do not like to perform. Although they love the rehearsal or learning process, they get nervous or anxious to a point of not being able to enjoy the fruits of those labors in performance. Mom loved the performances as much as I do. She’s still a ham when it comes to an audience.
That’s part of her legacy that I’m there to share. And, once again, I’m grateful!
