Honor Thy Father

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you SWEAR you could reach out and touch everything about it? Then you wake up the next day with a song that plays over and over again in your head?

That was me last night and, boy, was it a doozy. It involved baseball, Sidney Poitier and Heaven.

And it was wonderful.

To explain it, I would have to tell you more about my dad.

America’s Favorite Pastime - Baseball

My dad loved baseball. He played it growing up. He used to go to the ballfield with his friends or just play stickball in the street. And, from what he told me, he was pretty good at it. My dad took my brother to the original Shea Stadium in New York for a Mets game (something I am still envious of). He used to love the California Angels because Gene Autry, his favorite singing cowboy, was an owner. And, of course, living in Maine, he was a Red Sox fan. You would find my mom and dad glued to the tv when they played. They also watched the Little League World Series every year.

Sidney Poitier

Growing up, Saturday and Sunday afternoons were filled with my parents watching old movies. One of their favorites starred Sidney Poitier. ‘Lilies of the Field’ won him an Oscar for his portrayal of a handyman whose car breaks down at a small church somewhere in a western desert of the United States. The sisters who run the church hire him as a handyman and have him build a chapel: A chapel they had been praying for and he was the answer to their prayers…in more ways than one.

While giving them an English lesson (the sisters spoke broken English as they had been sent from Germany, Austria and Hungary), they sing a call and response hymn “Amen”. I used to sing that song around the house not knowing that, at that time, my parents gave me my first lesson in the Gospel.

The only thing I knew about God and Jesus was that Jesus was God’s son. The birth of Jesus with Mary and Joseph always came up around Christmastime. My parents had a small crèche they would set up. When we would watch ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ Linus would recite Luke 2: 8-14 from the Bible. It always made me cry yet I didn’t understand why. I never asked and no one ever told me.

Just a few short years before my dad’s passing, I asked him questions about his childhood. He told me how they went to church every Sunday, he sang in the choir and how the choirmaster took him under his wing and taught him to sing. He would then bring my dad around to area businesses and he would make a little money singing songs. The money helped his family. I had found a picture of his choirmaster and when I showed it to him, he couldn’t stop talking. So many memories flooded back to him. I wish I could have wrote them all down. I can only scribble so fast. But the time spent with him telling them was the best part.

Heaven

Although he never preached to us or spoke much about it, the Gospel was a part of his life. My parents had a huge gold-framed picture of Jesus on the wall and a statue of Mother Mary in the yard for their garden. One of the last things he said to me before he passed was “God bless that boy.”  He was referring to a photograph I showed him of my son, Anderson, wearing the tie he had specially made for him for Christmas and dad side by side in matching photos. Even though he could barely see at the end, he saw that picture when he held it up close and he teared up at the sight of it. In a shaky voice on shaky legs he said “God bless that boy.” That is something I’ll never forget.  And I am blessed to have that memory.

People, recently, have asked me personally “Why does God let things happen?” One person was referring to the murders of innocent people going on right now in Israel with their war. Another, why God would take their loved one from them and leave them so alone? Another, why would He let them die from Cancer?

I personally, believe that God doesn’t take people from us. He doesn’t strike people down with sickness. He doesn’t take their life. He is a loving and nurturing God. We were sent here to find our way back to Him. Terrible things happen in life. Heartbreaking, horrible and horrendous things. Some cannot be explained why. When a person dies, I truly believe Jesus and our Heaven Father are there to receive them. My nephew was gone from this Earth too soon but I know Heavenly Father was there to receive him when he arrived in Heaven. He also received my father with open arms. We are left here on Earth to deal with the aftermath. There is no time limit on grieving. Everyone grieves in their own way. While it may not look like I’m grieving, I am. The difference is I know they are together again and watching over us. They are happy. They are healthy. And they are perfect.

So with all this information you may wonder what “The Dream” was all about.

The Dream

It was so vivid. And it all makes so much sense when I think about.

I was walking up the steps through Fenway Park, something I have done many times, to seats along the 3^rd baseline. I could hear music coming from the tunnel. As I came closer the music got louder. When I finally reached the entrance the loudspeakers were blasting “Amen” from the movie. As I stepped closer to the front row I could see players in glowing white uniforms playing ball in the outfield. I watched and saw them throwing baseballs back and forth. One player broke from the team and trotted over to where I was standing. As he came closer it was hard to focus on him because he was so bright. He stopped just a few feet from me and after a few seconds I was able to see him clearly.

It was my dad.

Young, healthy, handsome. Just the way I thought he would be in Heaven.

In the ‘Field of Dreams’ movie, Kevin Costner said Heaven was Iowa. I think it’s Boston, now.

He was wearing a white Boston Red Sox hat but on his uniform above his left breast was a California Angels logo embroidered all in white.  He was tossing the ball in his glove over and over. I asked him “Dad, what’s going on?”

And he got this huge smile on his face. He turned and pointed his glove to the big screen. I looked up at it and there I was. I laughed and waved (Because who doesn’t do that when they see themselves on the big screen?) and said “Okay. What is happening?”

He gestured to me to look again and I did. The screen changed from my face to the words “Thank You” with God and Jesus on each side each giving me a thumbs up. The music got louder and he started to sing along with the song. He started backing away singing all the while and eventually turned and went back to his team.

I woke up to ‘Amen” in my head and it was so loud I googled the video of it and smiled. What a powerful and happy song that it.

What does it all mean?

After pondering all the things it COULD mean, all I can think of is this: I was honoring him. Not only him but my Heavenly Father as well. He was thanking me for believing in our Heavenly Father and his only begotten son, Jesus Christ. He was thanking for helping instill this knowledge in my son. He was thanking me for understanding why he is in Heaven. He was thanking me for not blaming him. He was thanking me for sharing the love my heavenly brother and father have for me.

There’s not a day that goes by I don’t think of my dad or get on my knees and pray for guidance and comfort in my life. A day I don’t ask my Heavenly Father to open the eyes of the ones that can’t see or refuse to see His love that is right there in front of them. A day I don’t thank Him for the wonderful life I have. It is because of His belief in me and my belief in Him that I can do the things I do, have the things I have, dream the dreams I dream. (Kind of like 1 Corinthians 13:7)

And that dream was the most precious one I could ever have.

 

Always Listen To Your Dad

It was the summer of 1997. I had just quit my first band. I felt I needed to go in a different direction. My biggest love was singing and, suddenly, my weekends were now free and there was no interest from other bands in the area of having me sing with them.

I was heartbroken.

I went to my parent’s house to visit and told them what had happened. I just started crying uncontrollably asking “What am I going to do? I love it so much.”

My father was visibly shaken. He had 1 son but he also had 8 daughters and hated to see any of them cry. He took my face in his hands and lifted my eyes to his. I will never forget that moment. When I looked in his eyes there were tears. He held my head and said “You know what? You have what I didn’t. You’ve got ‘IT’. You have a chance to make it. Don’t you worry. You’ll be okay. You are too good not to sing.” Back when he was in his early 20s, his voice had a close resemblance to that of Josh Groban thanks to training from the priests of his church he received. He missed his chance due to circumstances beyond his control.

Looking into his eyes that day I was determined to not let him down. I wasn’t going to let myself down. When Dad told me something, I always believed him. I wasn’t about to stop then.

Fast forward 21 years.

My father, 82, and my mother, 75, are now housebound. The only time they leave the house in the winter is to go to doctor’s appointments. In the spring, summer, and fall they venture out to their mailbox, their front yard to watch the parade pass by, the fenced-in backyard or are driven to a family gathering by one of us children. We all take turns running errands, cleaning house, cooking meals and just plain old visiting. We all love to visit and talk with them. We bring their grandchildren by to see them. Mom especially loves to see how big they are getting.

I had run an errand to the Christmas Tree Shop in Augusta and the Village Market in Fairfield the day before and stopped in to visit and deliver their purchases while my son was at Boy Scouts and my step-daughter was at basketball practice. They reimbursed me for the items I had bought them and we started talking.

My mother always asks “What’s new?” So I told them about the antics we had at work at the Maine Veterans’ Home that day, my meeting with the Stake President of my church and our plans for Christmas Day. I had them laughing when I told them about our cat who repeatedly clears a room due to its flatulence.  I mentioned that we had the weekend off from playing in the band because it was Christmas weekend and my dad startled.

“That reminds me,“ he piped up, “I had a dream about you last night.” I was so surprised. Dad never mentioned things like this.
“Me? What was I doing?” I started to laugh.

“Remember when you were at the Waterville Opera House and Ma and I were in our seats on the aisle and you sang that song to us?” I did. It was one of the best moments of my life. “The one where you got the standing ovation? Man,” he said “that was incredible. It was so good. You need to do that again. I dreamt about that last night.”

I was fighting back tears. My mind flashed back to that summer day 21 years ago and I had to hold it together. I didn’t want my dad to think he was making me cry even if they were tears of joy.

I cleared my throat and managed to make an announcement to them. “Thanks, Dad. As a matter of fact, I have big news. I have started a Miranda Lambert Tribute band and our first gig is in 3 months! I will be up on stage again just like that. The crazy thing is that I just booked a second one with a wonderful lady that says it’s going to be great. I haven’t even performed the first one yet! I am really hoping they go well because I’d like to branch out and take the show all over New England.”  Their eyes lit up.

“Wow! All over New England, you say?” said Dad. 

“That sounds cool,” added Mom.

I explained how I would wear a wig and have a costume change or two and how my younger sister, Jenny, would be singing back up. Practices were starting right after Christmas. I have a great group of musicians behind me including lead player Bruce Burpee, bass player Ed Nevins, rhythm player Larry Tilton and drummer Kyle Melcher. My husband, Chad, would be running the sound for us.

“Well,” Dad said “that sounds good. Good, good, good.”

“I’m glad you like it, Dad. I’ll make a video for you and you’ll be able to see it.”

“Good, good, good.” He nodded his head and smiled.

I have been singing in bands since I was 17 years old. Six years ago, thanks to the encouragement of my husband, I started my own band, Sharon Hood & Dixon Road. We have since opened for Luke Bryan, Keith Urban and, yes, Miranda Lambert. Now I’ve started this new venture paying tribute to a woman I admire so much.

Dad was right.

I was okay.
And I’m still singing.

One Mom’s Dream Passed to Her Son

I didn’t plan it. I didn’t push it on him. It was something he started to take interest in at school. When he started telling me about what he was doing, I thought “He’s just like me.”

At the age of twelve, my quest in life was to become an astronaut. It was just before the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster that took the life of school teacher Christa McAuliffe that my interests began to sway toward Astronomy. The stars were all I could think about. I studied the constellations, the phases of the moon and anything else I could get my hands on within books. I stayed outside at night just to look at them.

When I was in sixth grade, there was no internet and no readily handy ways to get information quickly. To do that I would have had to walk to the library for encyclopedias or books however my parents wouldn’t let me venture out alone. Fairfield, Maine was much different from where I started to grow up. Milford, Connecticut was a busy city while Fairfield was a small town. We had moved a few years earlier and mom and dad were still adjusting. My parents held onto the fear of their children being abducted in the streets. Going any where alone was forbidden. My knowledge was limited on space but I still thirsted for it.

Fast forward to today, my son, Anderson, has a uncanny interest in space just like I had. In fourth grade, he wrote small books on almost every planet and the moon for his fellow students to read. He wanted them to learn about them as much as he had. They were complete with title and pictures.

It hasn’t stopped there. We now watch the rocket launches on our television, movies that involve space (Star Wars, October Sky) and watch the meteor showers at night. The Perseid Meteor Shower is coming up this weekend. We won’t be able to watch it together on Saturday but we will on Sunday night. That will involve laying in the back of the car under blankets to stare into the night sky together and talk…about everything.

These are special moments with him I’ll never forget. Yesterday, I remembered getting in the mail when I was twelve a copy of a book that had to do with Dr. Robert Goddard, the engineer and physicist that built the first liquid-fueled rocket. Someone in my family, and I can’t remember who, sent me the book of the Goddard Rocket and Space Museum in Roswell, New Mexico. I recall reading it over and over. I found it this morning and sat down with Anderson.

I went on to tell him that my dream was to become an astronaut like him. Right away he told me I couldn’t do that because I get motion sickness. He is right. I can’t.

But he CAN.

I gave him the book I cherished so much and, with tears in my eyes, I told him “I want you to always be what you want to be. Never let anyone tell you that you can’t. Because you CAN.”

On the back of the book something caught his eye. “Mama, look!”  I followed his finger to the back cover.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The back cover had a red stamp on it that read:

COMPLIMENTS OF THE U.S. SENATE

COMMITTEE ON AERONAUTICAL AND SPACE SCIENCES

CHAIRMAN: SENATOR CLINTON P. ANDERSON, NEW MEXICO

Clinton is the town where we live and, of course, his name is Anderson. He became so excited and said “I think this is what I’m supposed to do.”

I think it is, too, and I’ll do everything I can to help him fulfill his dream.

Developing Your Gift from God

Yesterday, a man spoke in church about how when we are born God gives each of us a talent. That talent is left for us to discover because, sometimes, it’s not an immediate revelation. While some find it when they are children others may encounter theirs when they are adults. That talent is for us to do what we may with it. We can develop it. We can hide it. We can share it with others. We can teach others about it so they can increase theirs. Some are truly blessed and have multiple talents.

While I’m not the best vocalist, I do try and share what I think is my talent. It is such a joy for me to watch people dance to our music whether it’s the cover of a song or an original that was penned from my own hand. When the clubs are filled with patrons having a good time it makes my heart smile and I know God is happy with me.

The most wonderful part of my job is the children. When they are at the campgrounds and family functions I love to include them. When you think about it, little children are not the usual audience to attend a national concert on the stages of Bangor or Portland. When we, as a band, perform at these functions, we are the first “concert” they actually see. The children will come up to the stage and stare at the instruments. Others will stand right in front of me and watch my sparkling microphone. These are things they’ve never seen in real life. The music doesn’t come out of a tiny box or cell phone. They aren’t watching it as it is Chrome-casted on a television screen in a YouTube video.

It’s live. And to them, it’s amazing!

We have the kids come up on stage and dance or sing or, if we have it, play the tambourine. From that moment on, that’s all they can think about. I wish I had saved each message from a parent saying “Ever since we saw you play that‘s all my child thinks about. He/she wants a guitar/drums/microphone for their birthday/Christmas!”

We planted a seed.

A seed of music in a young child is a powerful thing. Studies have been shown that music helps a child learn and study better. They are better students because they can focus on a task because they focus on learning a song or a riff or a drumbeat. It helps them overcome shyness because they start to perform in front of others or join a group that makes them work with others. They can nourish that seed and, if they want, have it grow into one of the most wonderful talents a person can have and one of the easiest things to share.

I see the seeds in my own children growing. Jayden has taken to the drums like a natural. Brad has been playing guitar for years and has started talking about starting his own band with his friends. Anderson is now singing loud and proud at church. They see me and Chad and how hard we work at our music and it is rubbing off on them. We would never force them to play but we will encourage them when they are practicing. It’s our jobs as parents to help them nourish their talent.

It’s also my responsibility as an entertainer to give 150% each time I perform. In every crowd there is always someone that has never heard us. We may do the same 60 songs at every gig but there is no excuse for not giving it your all every time. You only have one chance to make a good first impression. I refuse to let that chance slip by because you never know who that one person is. It could be someone looking to hire your band for an event. It could be the next Jimi Hendrix or Carrie Underwood watching you play or sing. You will never know the affect you have on others.

Take your gift from God and make it grow. Whether it is music, teaching, sports…it doesn’t matter. Discover your gift and develop it. It will not only fill your heart but it will fill others. And you can be sure God will be smiling.

 

 

A Baseball Mom's Story

"Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference."-Winston Churchill

He was stuffing his mouth with the last two popcorn chicken Chad had made for lunch. We had been rushing around trying to finish our errands for the day. Sundays are busy for us. I pick up Anderson after church and try and visit my parents. Anderson loves to see them. Since they are housebound we travel to see them. They love his visits. Today my mom had him giggling about something. When we're there, he likes to help out. He changes the cat's water and brings them things they need from other rooms. He loves to talk with them. When we get ready to leave, he gives his Grammie a kiss and his Papa a firm handshake. And then a hug. He hasn't reached the age where hugs are not cool anymore. I hope he never does.

He grabbed his hat and I stuffed his glove in his bag and we piled into the car. For the next fifteen minutes it takes to get to practice, Anderson and I  discussed what it was he liked about baseball. Automatically he said "It's fun."

That's what it should be. It's what it starts out as for every child that picks up a ball and glove. If they're lucky, their coach will teach them the same thing.

At the beginning of practice, the kids were throwing to one another. There were new kids, seasoned pros and those in between. There were heated balls, rainbows and wild throws. After a few minutes the kids gather around Coach Dee who told them that "winning is great but it's not everything. The game should be fun."

They practiced grounders making sure they were "down and ready". Then it was pop flies Shouting "Mine!" & "I got it!", the kids were shagging them, stepping and throwing.

They practiced hitting plastic and rubber golf balls one child at a time while the others were in the outfield sliding across the gym floor to gather them up. The first one to hit the back wall would get a dollar. They were all swinging for the fences. After one batter finished they all scrambled to pick up as many as they could. There were seven boys at practice so they made quick work of  it.

On Anderson's turn, it became apparent he had approved from last year. His confidence had grown. He was more focused. His swing was more powerful.

He even tried pitching. He had a few nice pitches right over the plate.

Where did this kid come from?  He's growing not only as a player but as a young man. He's making choices, trying new things, finding himself and, for the most part, doing it without me. I am his driver to practice, his home catch practice partner and his cheerleader at his games.

Whatever he may lack in height he more than makes up for in his attitude. He's always smiling, always excited for practice and games. He amazes me every day. This game is something he loves, something he strives to be good at. I'm proud of the player he has become and the person he's become.

                              

Sharon Auditioned for Into The Woods and Anderson's Words of Wisdom

When I saw on my friend, Dan Kennedy’s, Facebook page that he was headed to auditions for ‘Into the Woods’ at the Waterville Opera House on Sunday, I instantly wanted to go. The show will run in April of 2015. That will be exactly 10 years since the curtain went up on it before. I was lucky enough to be cast in the role of Little Red Riding Hood.

And, as luck would have it, I went to a callback Tuesday for the same role.

I am 40 years old but, thankfully, have a youthful look about me. However, I’m not as youthful as the young ladies were that were also at call backs. I am guessing I’m 20 years older than they.

A definite disadvantage.

However, I still wanted to sing my heart out and try. And I did. The young ladies were all beautiful. All had the voices of songbirds. In other words: pretty steep competition.

Is there anything left in this old gal?

There sure is. But now, I have to be realistic. Yes, I have experience in prior productions but the director and musical director have to make very tough choices on all the different parts.

They will go with the ones that fit the parts the best. That means looks, voice and ability all rolled into one. And they always choose correctly. You must put trust in the people who are casting the players. It is their vision. Whomever they choose, they have faith in those and will guide them through the process to make this stage production as grand as the ones that came before it.

Last night when I told Anderson I had a call back for the part, he said “Mama, can I come and see you?” I told him IF I get the part that he would certainly be in the audience.

This morning he asked if I had “won” the part. I told him that I wouldn’t know for at least a week.

And then I asked him a few very important questions. Here is what transpired this morning:

“Anderson, what happens if I get the part?”

“I would get to see you, Mama, and you would be very happy.”

“Anderson, what would happen if I DIDN’T get the part?”

“I wouldn’t get to see you and you would be sad.”

“But is that okay? To be sad?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you did your best."

"That's right. I did."

There is always a lesson to be taught in all different situations. The reaction and how you handle each and every situation is watched closely by little eyes and ears. I hope he remembers this lesson when he unfortunately doesn't make it on a team or, if he ever gets into theater, doesn't get the role he wants. In the words of Stephen Sondheim and his lyrics for the Witch from the upcoming performances at the Waterville Opera House:

“Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful the things you do
Children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen
Children will look to you for which way to turn
To learn what to be
Careful before you say "Listen to me"
Children will listen
Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free
Careful the spell you cast
Not just on children
Sometimes a spell may last
Past what you can see
And turn against you
Careful the tale you tell
That is the spell
Children will listen
How do you say to a child who's in flight
"Don't slip away and I won't hold so tight"
What can you say that no matter how slight
Won't be misunderstood.
What do you leave to your child when you're dead?
Only whatever you put in its head
Things that you're mother and father had said
Which were left to them too
Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful you do them too
Children will see
And learn
Guide them, but step away
Children will glisten
Tamper with what is true
And children will turn
If just to be free
Careful before you say
"Listen to me"
Children will listen”

What Would My Answer Be?

On my birthday last week, my son, Anderson, asked me a question while I was driving him to the babysitter.

“Mama, what do you want for your birthday?”

I smiled at him in the rearview mirror and said “Lots of hugs and kisses from you!”

He laughed and said “No, Mama, what do you REALLY want for your birthday?”

I answered “Lots of hugs and kisses from Chad!”

Then he got a serious look on his face.

He said “No, Mama, what have you always wanted but never got?”

THAT took me by surprise.         

I remember being in a store about 10 years ago and buying a reissued Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine that I had always wanted as a kid.

I remember my co-worker surprising me on-air with an Easy Bake Oven.

But now, at 40, what is something I’ve always wanted but never received?

I had no answer. I told him I would have to get back to him on that.

I am now 40 years old. I certainly don’t feel it. And I’m told I don’t look it. But, at 40, it was time to look back and figure out what I HAD always wanted but NEVER received.

Or should it have been, never DONE?

So, I made a list of what I wish HAD happened to me.

I wish:

1.       I had been allowed to play sports in school

2.       Someone would have taught me about girl stuff (hair, monthlies, makeup, clothes)

3.       My mother had not ripped up the letter saying I had a full scholarship to UNC

4.       I had gone for a Bachelor’s Degree

5.       I had learned to play an instrument when I was a kid

6.       I had taken dance classes

7.       I had been allowed to attend school dances

8.       I had been allowed to have sleepovers

9.       I had not paid off someone’s $25,000 worth of credit card debt and not asked for it back (Because he is living large now!)

Yes, all those things happened.  I was what they called a “late bloomer” of life. In response to all those things I wish had happened, here is what I got out of them:

1.       It wasn’t until my 30s when I was part of an actual team. I played volleyball with my co-workers for a season.

2.      I’m still learning about girl stuff. I can’t do my own hair for the life of me and I rely on my husband to pick out my clothes. From what I hear he has good taste.

3.       I didn’t get to go to UNC but I DID graduate from KVTC and I’m going back to get my bachelor’s in January.

4.      That covers #4, too!

5.      I have learned enough on piano and guitar to create my own music but I’m not proficient at any of them.

6.      I can keep a beat on my feet but just because I have rhythm doesn’t mean I’m a good dancer.

7.     That one school dance where I was the laughing stock for the rest of the school year when my mother and sister arrived and made a huge scene….yeah, I could live without that memory.  I think if I had been able to attend them regularly, I would be able to relate to make friends and make better friends now.  I have plenty of friends on Facebook but I mostly keep to myself, husband  and children. I don’t ‘hang out’ with anyone.

8.     Ahhh, the sleepover. To this day I have no idea what goes on at one. I sincerely doubt it was pillow fights in pajamas.

9.       Yup. Paid off all his debt so his credit would be good and we could buy a nice house together. Got taken on that one. It’s a good thing I’ve got the right man now.

So what is it I want? At 40 years old, you’d think I could think of something, right?

Well, I have.

I want my son to grow up and experience everything I never got a chance to do.

I want him active in sports, which he is in baseball and basketball.

Learning about boy stuff, from Chad and Boy Scouts.

He WILL go to the college of his choice!

He WILL graduate, too!

He wants to take guitar lessons when he gets older. That’s fine with me!

The boy likes to dance and I will encourage him to dance whenever he wants to. A girl loves a man who can dance! (although I will have to intervene if ‘The Sprinkler’ ever becomes his signature move).

He can attend school dances and not be afraid of his mom freaking out on him.

He can sleep at a friend’s house without his mom freaking out on him.

And he will, hopefully, learn how to handle his money. He’s done well so far. He has a savings account for his church mission and college.

That’s it. I want my son to be able to do the things I was never allowed to do. It’s not because they were bad things. Yes, my parents were overprotective but it didn’t mean they didn’t love me or want what’s best for me. They did. And I know that.  And I’m who I am today because of it.

And I hope my son will understand, even if it is 20 years from when he graduates,  at the things I say ‘no’ to and the ones I say ‘yes’ to. I hope he will look back and say “I had it pretty good….and an awesome mom.”

 

What A Little Girl Told Me Last Night...And What I Said Back

I am very lucky. Every weekend I get to go and do something I absolutely love: SING! And to be compensated for that is awesome! Heck, most of the time I will sing for food.

I have been in bands since I was 17. Each one has been a unique experience. I've learned what to and not to do. What to say and what not to say. But the most important thing I've learned is how to treat people. You really find out who your friends are when things happen.

And kids are the most important people you can talk to. They are brutally honest. They will tell you what they DO like and, without a filter, what they DON'T like. And I take what they say into consideration. Everyone has an opinion.

But what one little girl told me last night really hit home.

When Sharon Hood & Dixon Road finished our gig at Lake Pemaquid Campground, a young lady named Jackie came up to me and said "You have an amazing voice. I wish I could do what you do but I get stagefright. I could never do that...I look up to you."

Oh, be still my heart.

I am but a medium-sized fish in a big pond. The band has a wonderful following for which I am truly thankful for. Each gig brings exciting new people into our lives.

And this exciting new little person was a beautiful soul.

It shows that I have a very important job to do. With all the media that kids are watching (tv, YouTube, the internet in general), they are exposed to so much. Most children at that certain age (10-12) have never been to an actual concert so when they see me it's the first concert they've ever been to. (They are REALLY wanting Taylor Swift but they get me instead!) And I have a responsibility to give them a great performance.

It is also my responsibility to be a role model. There are some stars out there who do things on stage that I would NEVER let MY children see (I think you know who I'm talking about). And I wouldn't be caught dead doing ANYTHING they do. Now is the time when kids soak up every picture, every song, every action of their favorite artists. It's that kind of time we live in.

So when this young, beautiful girl with big bright eyes says something like that to me, it's my responsibility to talk with her. To, hopefully, tell her the right things.

And this is what I told her:

I told her thank you very much and that I was glad she enjoyed the show. I also told her that she CAN do what I do. You see, every gig I have I'm a little nervous before the show starts. If I wasn't a little nervous, I wouldn't be human. Everyone wants to give a great performance. Who likes to mess up? After I get up on stage and that first song is over, I feel much better and the show goes on as usual.

I told her that if she likes to sing, STICK WITH IT! If it is something you love, why give it up? Why let something stop you? She could be the next winner of American Idol or The Voice! All it takes is practice. And lots of it. I've been singing since I could walk. Practice may not make perfect but it sure as heck makes you better.

I told her that next year, because her family are seasonal campers and hope to be back next year, that we would have her on stage with us. Her eyes got really big at that point! There are songs we do that she already knows. Why not? Someone let me take the stage for the first time. It's my turn to do that for someone else.

In 7th grade, I was told by my teacher that I was ugly and couldn't sing so why try out for the school musical? That hurt me so much. But it didn't stop me. I kept at it and joined chorus in high school. I was discovered to be a natural harmonizer which I love doing. I was cultivated by people who saw something in me and helped me get better. I surrounded myself with people like me who love music and everything about it.

I may never get to the level of Taylor, Carrie or Miranda but I CAN do what I love. I still have the same dream...it's just coming true in a different way. There is still time for my original dream to come true. All I can do is keep working towards it, surround myself with people with the same dream and be happy. Now, I am writing my own music and bringing it to life with 4 great friends and a husband and family that support my dream. Maybe my voice will never be heard across the country but maybe, just maybe, my songs will.

To Jackie at Lake Pemaquid Campground...NEVER give up on your dreams! NEVER let anyone say you're not good enough! NEVER let other people tear you down just to lift themselves back up. NEVER let yourself forget that YOU are an original. NEVER try to be someone you're not. YOU deserve to be happy. YOU have the right to dream any dream you like and strive to make it come true.

And I hope it does. I truly hope it does.