When I Sing for Me, I Sing for Her

I have had a secret bubbling underneath the surface for a few weeks now. I have shared it with a small group of people but have not taken it “live” on the blog for various reasons. First and foremost: I am not pregnant. (This said because any time I tell my mom to keep a secret, her first question is, “Are you pregnant?”) Anyway, now that we have that out of the way, some reasoning for the silence while I continue being vague. You love it.

At first, I couldn’t believe that what was going on was even a possibility. Then as that quickly sank in, I realized that I didn’t want to jinx it on a grand, public scale. Talking about something on a public blog before it is an actuality is almost a surefire way to make sure it doesn’t happen. And then I had to wait an extra week because something that needed to happen didn’t/couldn’t happen because of the insane amount of ice and snow thrust upon our region. That melted and, last week, everything came together.

What am I talking about?

I mentioned, at various times in the past few months, that I joined our local chorale. I did not have a solo at the Christmas concert because it was my first concert of my first season. Why would I have had a solo? I simply enjoyed the act of being on stage and singing once again. We’re now preparing for our spring show which has a theme of “Broadway Updated.” My director approached me a few weeks ago, pulled out one of the medleys and asked me if I “knew” one of the songs.

What a silly question! I’m a musical dork! To boot, the medley in question was the Miss Saigon medley. And I’m willing to bet lights just went on in several brains reading this post. That’s right, my director, without knowing my history, asked me if I knew the song “I’d Give My Life for You.” I simply smiled and said that, yes, I loved Miss Saigon. He then told me he’d want to hear me sing it and that he might turn it into the whole song instead of the eight measures it was in the medley. And then we were off for an entire week.

I practiced. And practiced. To and from the Poconos. For two weeks, I sang that song like it was the only song on the planet. My older son now asks me to sing it when we’re in the truck, calling it “Mommy’s song.” I practiced and practiced and, oh my goodness, I practiced.

And then at practice last Tuesday, everything paid off.

I am now not singing just that song (yes, stretched out to be most of the full song) but any part that Kim’s character in the Miss Saigon medley sings, well, I’m singing. That equals out to one other small solo in “The Heat is on in Saigon” and a duet with Chris’s character. I’m overwhelmed. And excited. And nervous. And happy. And scared. And proud. And a bunch of other emotions.

Including… amused. At the irony. Oh? You don’t know the song? You’re not familiar with the words? Do me a favor. Watch this YouTube video. No, really, do it. I’ll wait.

That’s right. I’m singing a song about putting my child’s needs before my own. True, the song is about a boy but, other than the one mention, that’s not the point of the song, now is it? Lines like “you didn’t ask me to be born” and “I’ll give you a million things I’ll never own, I’ll give you a world to conquer when you’re grown” and the main point of the song: “you will be who you want to be, you can choose whatever heaven grants, as long as you can have your chance, I swear I’ll give my life for you.”

Do you have a lump in your throat as well? Yeah.

I’m not particularly sure how I’ll be able to sing this song in front of a huge crowd… that includes my daughter’s mom. That’s right. They’re coming out for the performance. I don’t yet know how we’ll handle the kids so I don’t know if the Munchkin will be in attendance. There is that chance as she’s been to and is old enough to attend formal performances. So, we’ll see.

That aside, a friend of mine said that I should bring “something” to the song that no one else can. Yep. Raw emotion. In your face.

Raw emotion aside, I’m so very excited. My husband is very proud. We’ve made jokes about being typecast because of my eye shape. But it’s been years and years since I’ve been recognized, outside of church, for my vocal ability. This? This feels so very good.