Did you know I used to sing?
Then I stopped performing.
I walked away from the stage.
I left behind a scholarship
at a small college as if it
was nothing more than
a second hand bike
passed down three times
left out between flat tires,
tall grass and the rain.
Truth be told, I don’t know
if I was any good because
I got into one college
and earned a scholarship
with my voice, but not the
bigger school. I stopped
singing on a stage, in
the choir, and in the rain.
I was okay when I sang at
around my son’s age of 12,
but it needed tuning up.
You see, I had a different
kind of brain, and I’d sing
wherever I walked not
realizing the kids behind were
laughing at me. I taught my
son when he was young
to never just burst out in
song. “They will only laugh,
and never see you as I do.”
A teacher gave me private
lessons. Year by year, my
voice improved, and I earned
that scholarship until I decided
I had more talent in my fingers
than my voice ever did. I
left the lights, and ignored the
choirs when they asked me to
sing. They said, “We heard your
voice in church. We’d love you
to come and sing.”
But I ignored the invitation the
same as the spot in the pew I
left behind after my daughter died.
Because after years of never
singing, Corrie heard me hum.
“Sing me a song, Mommy,” she
said. “Not now, my voice is
tired.” “Please sing for me.”
I started singing for my children,
and I smiled then like a kid that
got a bike, sparkling blue, with
wheels never used. Corrie asked
me to sing again and again, and
I sang again and again until
my darling died.
My son asked me to sing for
him in the months after, but
my voice was tired. It barely
answered. The hills weren’t
alive with any sound, and I
looked at gravel on the road
between the Carolinas where
even daisies refuse to grow.
It seems enough to wake, and
take my son with me to
school. But when he breaks,
I can only go so long before I
see the end of the hallway and
drop to my knees.
Just remember,
I used to sing, but even I have
forgotten the sound and
barely recall the songs.
My son doesn’t ask me
anymore, and I don’t
remind him that I
used to sing.
Corrie's Season 