Ten years ago I was conducting a very nice community choir and enjoyed it so much that I decided to start my own.
I went to a group of friends and mentors who helped me plan and prepare for such a venture. One main objective was for it to be accessible to Mom who was beginning to have some mobility issues. I also wanted a children’s choir for my own children, ages 10, 8, and 5 at the time. Out of this planning came Mountain Voices Community Choir.
Mountain Voices is still going strong. Mom had to quit three years ago when she stopped being able to track the music. She had been struggling for a couple of seasons but had made it through with the help of the other sopranos and, of course, my dad. She couldn’t learn new music, but how she loved the songs she already knew. It was heartbreaking for me and others when she couldn’t continue.
We called her the “Queen Mother.” She had a special seat for rehearsals and performances. Dad enjoyed sitting in the parlor of the church reading a book or meeting a friend for ice cream. When Dad determined she couldn’t continue, I argued with him. I knew how much that time meant for her socially and for him, too. I questioned whether the choir should go on, but it meant so much to others. Of course we should continue.
But I had started it with her in mind. I wanted a place for her to make music within a family of likeminded individuals. And we did. We made lots of beautiful music and many wonderful friends. She sang in over 20 concerts for more than 7 years. Then Mountain Voices continued, but beyond her ability. Others retired, too, for various reasons. We’ve watched kids graduate and move away. We’ve embraced folks new to the community or just new to us. Student directors have had the chance to work with the community. High schoolers have sung with octogenarians. Lots of comings and goings. But time marches on with all its changes. And Mountain Voices is still going.
This past weekend, we had our fall concert. Mom and Dad were there. Every time I looked her way, Mom was smiling. She loved it. She loved the kids. She loved the adults. During the sing along, she was in her element, singing every word. She loved getting hugs and sharing smiles with so many “new” people. Even though she can’t be a part of the music making any longer, in so many ways I still do it for her.
I often wonder how I’ll be able to make music later – when she’s unable to come to the concerts. When I can’t look out and see her face. I wonder if kids will return to our choir later. I try to imagine the future of Mountain Voices, not just the future of our group but the future of music in our community and in our churches and in our world.
Ever since this group began, I have had a blast planning and preparing for each concert. To take the music off the page and make it come alive is a wonderful and incredible process that I appreciate every day. I love the friends I’ve made and the relationships that have grown. I tell my students that singing with someone is a lot like dancing. You have to be in rhythm and sync. There’s trust and mindfulness and connection.
We don’t dance much, Mom and I, but we have sung together so many times. And I am grateful for every song.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Donna Bunn James is a voice and piano teacher and sought-after accompanist. Donna also directs the Mountain Voices Community Chorus and the choir at First United Methodist Church in Cornelia. Amidst her many jobs she makes the time to care for her aging and ailing mother, Ruth.
If you are a caregiver and have a story to share or know of resources that might help other caregivers, please contact her at [email protected].
