Unbelievable

I come from a musical family.

My father's parents were musical; I have many fond memories of my grandmother playing her little electric organ for us when we came to visit, and she would always sing to us at bedtime.  I remember laughing when I found out she played the trombone in high school; you see, she's only about 5 feet tall, so the visual image of her moving that slide in and out with her short little arms was pretty funny to me as a child. 

My mother's parents were musical; her father was a professional musician who played dance marathons until his fingers bled during WWII.  He was also the organist at his church, and spent many years turning rough street boys into a lovely school boys choir.

My own parents are musical; my mother played the piano and organ, and also sang beautifully.  My father also sings and often leads the music at our church meetings.  I also heard a rumor that he plays piano, but I'm not sure I've ever seen it happen... 

My brothers and sisters and I are musical; we all sing, and most play at least one instrument.  I was the slacker of the bunch that flaked out on piano lessons.  I wish I had stuck with it, but having my mother for a teacher just didn't work for me.  That's my excuse anyway. 

I knew I would marry someone musical.  I couldn't imagine it otherwise.  And my DH is a musical man.  He sings wonderfully, was concert master in his high school orchestra, and still pulls out his violin to play for the kids every now and then. We sing together as a family, and our children play instruments: the trombone, the piano, the clarinet, the trumpet, the french horn, plus the recorder and our little Fisher Price piano for Dallin.

I was raised with music all around me.  My parents exposed us to a variety of genres, from barbershop to classical to bluegrass to experimental jazz--nothing was off limits, except maybe the hard rock/rap stuff.  I must confess that as a teenager I rolled my eyes more than a time or two when the country/bluegrass music started playing, but I've come to appreciate the musicality and emotion of it.  Except Willie Nelson.  Sorry, Dad.

The holidays are especially full of music for me.  We sing with our church choir, and rotate through our stack of Chrismas cds pretty regularly.  For me, the signature sound of the holidays is the King's College Choir; the men and boys create a magical sound that personifies Christmas in my mind.  It goes back to my childhood, and I'm so thankful for parents who have a love for that beautiful music.

Imagine my amazement last Saturday night when my DH told me that the King's College Choir would be performing at a special Remembrance Sunday service the next day.  See, we live not too far from King's College, but their concerts are always priced out of our budget; this however, was a worship service, so there was no charge.  I was thrilled with the prospect of listening to this choir perform in their own chapel.  And to top it off, they were performing Mozart's Requiem--one of my favorites of all time.

It was an incredible experience, and my heart was so full that I wanted to cry as I sat and listened to this sound of my childhood ringing through the 500 year-old chapel.  I couldn't believe I was actually there.  It was an honor and a privilege to be in attendance, and I am so thankful that I got to take some of my children.  And I was doubly thankful that they appreciated the majesty and magnificence of the surroundings and the music.

It was truly, unbelievable.