Unless you ride in a car with A or knew him in high school, what you’d never know about him is that he can sing. He’s a strong baritone. He was in Acapella choir in high school, sang in the high school’s musicals, played and sang the lead in one of the high school’s musicals, and sang in a few weddings on and off throughout college. Singing is just something he can do. It’s not a passion of his…it’s barely a hobby. Now, he sings when he drives and sings to our kids…and that’s about it.
A couple of Fridays ago, we met after my infusion. He asked me to come with him to a work related function he needed to attend, and afterwards, we went to dinner. For him, it’d been a fairly calm week at work, which is good considering the stress for him at home. Dealing with the kids, dealing with me, helping me deal with my treatments is as much a full time job for him as his full time job. As we sat in the restaurant waiting for our meals, John Legend’s All of Me came on. A loves that song. It’s completely in his vocal range, and he says it’s fun to sing. He began humming with it. Then, he began quietly singing along with it. We were in a fairly loud restaurant, no one would have heard him anyway (unless he’d leapt to his feet and began performing the song…something I wouldn’t put entirely past him), but he sang along pretty quietly. I looked over to say something to him and found him staring at me as he sang. I’m not a particularly romantic, sentimental soul, but there are times when he sings to me…at me, that just make my heart melt. That Friday night listening to him quietly sing All of Me was one of those heart melting moments. (Other heart melting moments include when he sang Amazed (Lonestar) to me at our wedding reception, and Bent (Matchbox 20) on the car ride to San Antonio where he proposed).
It’s been a rough few weeks. We may be on an even stretch of track right now, but there’s no guarantee there’s not going to be an unexpected drop or another protracted climb. I’m in a holding pattern. I see Dr. L next week to talk reconstruction. I see Dr. O the following week for the first time since February. After having radiation everyday for six weeks and surgery before that and chemo for four months before surgery and radiation, it’s a strange limbo to experience. There’s a lot I’m unsure of right now. I have a couple of really important surgery decisions I have to make. Soon. Both surgeries are going to leave me with more scars and more insecurities.
A knows what I’m still facing, and he knows the decisions I have to make. And, I guess I needed to hear another affirmation from him that he loves me, no matter what, scarred, scared, angry, sad, and while he’s told me scores of times, but it’s different when he sings it.