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All kids love to sing, and I was no exception. My dad sang around the house all the time, usually silly songs. He had a great voice and it was fun to sing along. I also sang in the church choir from a young age. It must have been multi generational because I remember standing by adults. I loved the old church hymns and they sounded wonderful echoing in the high ceilings of the old fashioned Episcopal church. In middle school and high school I sang in the school choir but I had a problem when they divided us into sections and I was an alto. I couldn't for the life of me "hear" the alto part in my head so I couldn't sing it. I always veered toward the melody. My singing career ended in 12th grade when Marcia V., the snotty daughter of a music professor, whispered to me as we prepared to sing that I should just open my mouth but not let any sound come out. I also took piano lessons beginning in kindergarten and I loved playing. I wasn't a natural but with a lot of practice I could do pretty well. As a moody teenager I loved melancholy composers like Tchaikovsky. Sadly, after I went off to college I didn't have access to a piano. I'd like to start playing again. My hands have been too crippled in recent years but they are fixed now and I'm just about ready to start. That's really exciting! I wonder how much I'll remember after 50 years but I don't mind starting with scales if I need to. --Terese
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January 2022
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