The Gift

It was back around 1991 or 1992, someplace in there.  I don’t remember exactly.  I was at a Christmas party and sitting on the floor in a friend’s living room.  Someone brought out her guitar and started singing.  She had a beautiful voice and everyone enjoyed listening to her, so no one else would sing.  She really didn’t want to sing alone, though, so I joined her.

Now I loved singing, but my voice wasn’t the greatest.  Therefore, I usually sang only for myself and my little critters.  I could, however, usually follow someone as they sang.  My friend, though, was a soprano and I was something else.  I have since learned it was alto.  Thusly, I couldn’t reach the high notes she sang, even with a step ladder!  But that didn’t stop us, we sang together for the longest time.

Her repertoire, however, was one of a somewhat off beat selection compared to what the rest of us knew.  The majority of her songs were entirely unknown to me.  She did have the music to Memory from Cats.  I had always loved the song.  The sound of it was so beautiful, but so haunting to me.  Others kept requesting she sing Memory, and she kept saying no.  A bit later, when I commented how much I liked the song, she agreed, saying only for me.

I never will know what made her decide to sing this beautiful song for me.  Perhaps she had weakened from all of the previous requests and I was the most recent to ask.  Or maybe it was because I was rather shy about singing, and still I was the only one who even tried to sing with her. 

Every time I have heard this song since then, I have been reminded of that afternoon, sitting on the floor beside a Christmas tree, in front of a fireplace and singing.  I have wonderful, warm memories of the day I was given Memory as a gift.