I wrote this before Christmas but couldn’t bring myself to share it. It reflects the sadness I felt then and I really didn’t want to share sadness. But I feel I owe it to her. So with a bright promising 2017 upon us, and my heart well on its way to healing, I am sharing this now with a smile on my lips and gratitude in my soul.
Jake Himmel, January 1, 2017
She Was The Reason I’d Sing
I combined my ordinary voice with mashed up lyrics. I chose songs that were simple and changed them to be about her. I sang them spontaneously, almost unknowingly, every time we engaged. She would look me in the eyes, squint just a little, smile and pant, and listen patiently. When I’d stop, her eyes would spring open and she’d lick me until I’d start again.
She was the reason I would sing.
I used to sing to my wife, but with familiarity she grew bored of the distraction. I used to sing to my children, but they grew up to favor a balanced pitch and a master lyricist. I used to sing to myself in the shower, but I grew lonely without an audience. So I sang to Shyanne. She grew too. She grew eager to hear more every single time. She grew a bright sparkle of appreciation in her eyes each time I would begin anew. She grew to understanding that my nonsensical lyrics always meant that I felt love and joy and more love for her.
She was the reason I’d sing.
Sometimes i would sing to the cats, but they are cats so you can image their disinterest. I tried the rabbits, too, but they would rather eat. Rocky sometimes listens, but usually with a mixture of confusion and disdain. Besides, he’d rather chase the rabbits, or play with Juliana’s cat Rori – his one true love. I may find my voice one day with Romeo, but not just yet. The wound is fresh. The music is quiet. The inspiration is gone.
She was the reason I’d sing.
Shyanne. You were my music. RIP.