Moonlight Serenade

We did something different last night. My sister, who normally takes the "day shift" at the hospital, wanted a return visit. She asked whether we could go together. With just her and me at the bedside, I decided to give an impromptu rendition of songs I performed as a child (either at my Bar Mitzvah, or at elementary school plays). For some perspective on how long ago all this was, please remember I'm now a grandfather. Anyway, here I am, recalling the words to songs not sung for over 40 years, and my sister joins me (just as she did at my Bar Mitzvah).

Back then, "Mary Poppins" was just being released, and my sister and I had entertained the Bar Mitzvah guests with our renditions of songs from the movie. Though my singing voice has long since become unbearable, performing for my father seemed to be just the medicine he needed. He smiled (both with his mouth and eyes), and his humour was quite evident, as he remarked that my singing was providing him the opportunity to produce several satisfactory bowel movements.

Whether that means he was using the "music" as a cover for his bodily sounds, or whether he was politely saying I sang like shit, I don't really know. What I do know is that my sister and I had fun, and my dad seemed to enjoy the show.

After returning home, I spoke with my other sister (who was only 5 years old during the Bar Mitzvah gig), and she told me she had considered doing the very same thing earlier today when she had visited! Perhaps for tomorrow's visit, she'll add her two cents, thus completing the serenade.