With a clear start to my groggy day, i reminisce on the wedding the day before thinking how lovely it was to see my friend happily married and content. People had been gracious with the kind words regarding my music for the ceremony and I was grateful for the encouragement.
Today would be a different day. Used to fundraising and seeing heart breaking situations that require funding, I’d be a little thick skinned going into these events. I’ve learned how to keep it together in circumstances where emotions can run high ~ how would today be different?
I remember as a young girl playing tunes on my guitar with my dad, singing songs from our Elton John book, flicking through the pages and stopping at ones we liked. “Danny” & “Your Song” my favourite back then being “Crocodile Rock”. I liked Elton Johns music ~ 80’s ballads and rock en roll ~ nice piano riffs and guitar slicks… just an average jam with my dad…
I picked up a lunch knowing it would be a long day ~ I though it would be prudent to do so, trusting of course that tea/coffee would be provided, we are after all “Irish”. We need the awld “cuppa” to keep the vocal chords moist!
The auditorium was quiet. I was the first one there, just after the sound engineer who was fluffing about with wires and switches, looking reasonably calm which settled my nerves. Or maybe just anticipation of what was to come.
My eyes continually falling to the piano, me thinking “I wonder…. just a few chords… before any one comes in” alas no. I won’t dare touch the instrument of another even if it’s rented, it’s not mine. It’s a silent respect I feel towards the mahogany and dusty strings, dampers, the notes which have known the touch of a real musician, not an awld spoof like me.
Doors begin to clang and grate, mental of metal barriers and locks. People begin to filter slowly in like a soft Sunday morning smelling of coffee and thoughts of the night before. Shuffling feet along mismatched floor boards that creek and groan under the weight, I’ve eaten to much again ~ i can tell in the way i feel sitting in my seat. I need to lighten up…
Familiar faces smile gently at me and my inner child wakes up with the feeling of excitement and mystery. We’re all here today together united. No them and us, just all of us together, As One.
I went to collect the lilac t-shirts and give them out to my friends who are also my Gospel Choir. They look great today ~ eager for what’s about to happen as they’ve no clue what is going to happen other than my telling them “It’s going to be great”. Some of the kids have come as well, and why not, they’ll learn, as we all will the importance of hope and the power of unity. One voice.
Here he came, with a swagger that only he could have, a charming smile and kindly eyes, He’s loved by all. A lil cough to clear last nights cobwebs from the brow as he readied himself. Our chorus master. A bit of a double “o” seven of you ask me!
People have gathered and lines are being practice by now the musicians in their designer cardigans and skinny jeans tune up and prepare themselves for “The choir”
“Hold me closer ……………. Tiny Dancer……”
“Count the highlights on the Highway ……………..”
“Lay me down in sheets on linen…………….”
“You’ve had ….. a busy day ………today….”
The ensemble arrived one by one, some surrounded by adoring fans while others busied themselves with T.K MAXX ~ but when the moment mattered the song was tight…
The afternoon pressed on and it was made known that we would be visited by someone special. It was agreed , as it was understood, that the place would remain calm. We promised to not become over excited as it was important to maintain some class of normality to this extraordinary event.
….. And in she came. Held in the arms of her mother, then her father. All day I couldn’t place how I knew the fella in the smart outfit and the cool hat. Now I knew who it was. ‘Daddy’. The little girl was brought in and introduced to everyone. She was shy and perhaps a little overwhelmed at the size of the place, full of people. The lights, cameras, instruments and just the vast amount of people, sitting quietly taking in the moment. It was as if life itself had enter the room and all you could do was breathe. She looked. She cuddled into her father. She hit a cymbal, giggled and Galway may as well have won the match for the joy that was in that room.
Then we sang. As i said before as touching as this experience was, being accustomed to sad or emotional events, i held my own. But then i had a moment.
Thinking about my dad and how much he loves me. How much love i see in his eyes when he smiles at me and how proud i know he is of me. Our friendship and that closeness that only a father daughter can have. I watch as her father sang to her ~ as we all sang together. I watched him, unable to tear my eyes away, for all I could think of was how brave he was being in that moment to not break down as i began to crumble. Such love. Such hope. Such pain.
I can’t think of those moments without feeling my throat swell and my eyes water. How he feels about his daughter is how I feel about my dad and though I don’t know how it feels to go through their struggles, what we have in common is unconditional love. Love that would break walls down, tear mountains asunder. Love that believes in miracles.
That for me was my moment. My moment to be grateful for memories i have as a young girl growing up jamming with dad. To be grateful that I have him, that we are close friends and that he loves me.
Her mum walked over to the microphone to thank everyone, from the bottom of her heart. I could hear the hurt in her voice. The longing for things to be right, the hope that they would be. I admired her immediately. Such strength, endurance, such passion.
We cracked it, we sang it, we recorded it and celebrated it. There wasn’t a life that wasn’t touched or a heart moved that day. The eerie silences that hushed through the building had their place.
Photo By Andrew Gallagher
We are beggars at the altar of life, hoping against hope for a miracle.
No words of mine now or hereafter will do justice to how my life has changed. I feel different and I’m beginning to think different. I’ve been fueled into such action, the likes i’ve not felt before.
With all that is going on around us within these events, miracles are happening everyday on account of this little girl. She has brought people together, to work together to sing together. Because of this , new friendships have grown, peoples priorities straightened out and new people working harder to see funds raised to research and find a cure. The cure should be called “Lily Mae”
“Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.” Charles Dickens
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We produced a charity single recording of Tiny Dancer by Elton John in aid of four year old Lily-Mae Morrison from Claregalway who is suffering from stage four Neuroblastoma, a rare childhood cancer of the nervous system.
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