For me, the Christmas season is peppered with various and sundry music recitals, during which I sit with the other proud parents in the audience and get misty-eyed as my child performs the holiday standards. It has been thus since 1998, when my eldest was in Kindergarten. I look forward to these recitals, and thoroughly enjoy them. The night of 20 December 2010, though, marked the pinnacle of my "Christmas musical enjoyment", for lack of a better phrase.
Every year at the close of the annual Hellgate Christmas choir concert, the choir master invites all Hellgate choir alumni in the audience to come up to the stage and join the choir for the Hallelujah Chorus of Fredric Handel's "Messiah".
I am not a Hellgate choir alumni, but my mother is. Since S was a Freshman, I have toyed with the idea of going up on stage and singing....you know, as a proxy sort of thing. I mentioned the idea to S after last year's concert, and was surprised at his response. "You totally should come onstage and sing with us next year."
This year, when December rolled around, S asked me, "So, are you going to sing the Hallelujah Chorus with us at the Christmas concert this year?"
"I don't know," I replied "I'm not actually a Hellgate choir alum."
"Mum," he said, eyes heavenward, "No one will know, or care. Just come sing with me."
Far be it from me to decline an invitation to be seen in public with one of my children. Especially an invitation extended by my child himself. "Okay," I said. "I'll do it."
The day of the concert I was all nerves. And snot. And a sore throat. Not at all conducive to reaching the soaring heights of Mr. Handel's masterpiece.....But I had made a promise.
So all day at work I fell back on all the old "voice-saving" tricks I had learned in my own choir days (long, long ago in the previous century, as my children are so quick to remind me)....Halls Mentholyptus coughdrops (to soothe the throat and open the nasal passages), lots of warm tea with lemon and honey, minimal speaking (difficult to accomplish when part of your job description is answering the telephone!), cosy scarves (yes, in the plural) worn all day - even indoors....
By the time we arrived at the concert hall that evening, my cold symptoms were much better. But the butterflies in my stomach had begun a routine to rival that of Cirque du Soliel.......and I could feel my throat closing up.....STAGEFRIGHT. "I can do this," I said to myself. "I just need some Halls, some water and some warming up."
Sounds like a simple equation....but no. I didn't have any Halls. I had given them to S, and he was in the mezzanine, awaiting his entrance. I was relatively certain I could buy a bottle of water at the concession stand; maybe they had coughdrops of some sort, as well?
Luck was not on my side at the concession stand. Water was easily had, but cough drops there were none. Ever the undaunted optimist, I searched the shelves for anything that might work. Wintergreen Lifesavers? Nope. Altoids? None. Tic Tacs? By this time I was desperate. "What about peppermint Mentos?" the concession stand guy asked.
I could have kissed him.
I took the Mentos and water back to my seat and settled in. As the choir performed each selection, I quietly sang along (unobtrusively, I hope) and I popped Mentos and swigged water between the pieces. I could feel my throat opening and my vocal cords limbering up, but my stomach was still in knots when the choir master invited "all Hellgate choir alumni in the audience to come up on stage for the Hallelujah Chorus." Hesitantly, I walked onstage, accepted a copy of sheet music from the choir master and stood next to S.
"I'm so nervous," I whispered to him. "I don't feel prepared at all."
"Now I know where I get my stagefright from," he laughed. "You know the song....you'll be fine. Just follow me and watch Dr. P. for the changes." Then, as the accompanist launched into the first few bars of the introduction to the Hallelujah Chorus, I heard S whisper "Here we go...."
And I sang. I stopped feeling nervous and just sang, caught up in the harmonies of what is arguably the most beautiful Christmas song ever written. (As an aside, I sounded pretty good, if I do say so myself. Perhaps these ol' pipes aren't as rusty as I thought they were....)
In the middle of the piece, where the different parts engage in a sort of "call and response", the thought occurred to me that the beautiful, deep, resonant, Bass voice in my left ear was that of my son, and that we were performing this iconic holiday piece together....at his request. He wanted me to sing with him, to stand next to him onstage in front of all his friends. Not all parents of 17-year-olds are lucky enough to be able to say that.
Could a mother ask for a better Christmas gift from her son? I think not. I shall treasure it always.
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