All was set for the end of year party at my daughter’s school. The school owner asked if some of the parents would sing at the event. She had a particular Christmas song in mind. At first a couple of other parents and myself agreed to sing that song together but as the day drew near, I was the only one left of the lot. I developed cold feet too and thought of opting out as well. But I had given my word, so I stayed.
A few days to the Christmas party, my daughter asked me to sing the song I was going to perform to her. I did. I was so glad that I got all the lyrics to the song for I had struggled with remembering the words during rehearsals with my husband. Though I never got around to rehearsing with the school’s pianist, my husband was kind enough to practice the song with me a couple of times.
The D-day arrived and I was set to perform. For someone who loves to sing, I hadn’t been that flustered, unsure and really uneasy in a very long while. I tried to prep myself; ensuring to maintain a positive attitude and paint the picture of a wonderful performance in my mind’s eye. Thing is, the more I tried, the farther away from being comfortable I became. I was determined to see this through no matter how I felt. I did.
As the compere called my name; beckoning on me to come to the stage, I felt that familiar sense of overwhelm again. It came like a surge. “I should have created time to rehearse with the school’s pianist”, I thought to myself. Thank goodness, I managed to catch a glimpse of my daughter’s face just before I climbed the podium. The look in her eyes and the smile on her face spoke to me – they told me that it’ll be fine. I began to sing and all went well, until … I forgot my lyrics. I thought to myself: “the worst has happened”. A few seconds after, the keyboardist and I were literally on different keys! It deteriorated to a musical disaster! I did the noble thing – completed the song and left the stage.
As I walked back to my seat, I quickly noticed that I was unusually calm. I sure was not happy with the way things turned out and even blamed myself for not taking it seriously yet I was swept with a feeling of ironic fulfillment. Soon enough I realized that it mattered very little if my performance was great; showing up in the first place was me sending a very important signal to my daughter about the importance of fulfilling an obligation. Besides making for a good laugh and/or future reference, it will go down memory lane as one of the times that mummy attended an event at her daughter’s school. On the flip side, let’s just say: I did not mind being a sucker on the day; talk about being a fool for love. Then again, a part of me keeps telling me that I am only making excuses for all that happened. Oh well…