An Unforgettable Moment of Birthday Joy

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Last night, I literally sobbed with joy. I've never done so before. My sobs were silent, but my body shook with them.

That's because my son, daughter-in-law, and spouse had secretly arranged to host an opera singer and her accompanist in their home as a belated birthday present for me. They knew how hard I'd tried to get an aisle seat anywhere at the Met in order to see Lise Davidson perform in Macbeth, but there were none to be had.

And so, they brought the opera to me. When the doorbell rang, I thought it was a food delivery or perhaps someone looking for another apartment.

And then, in walked a tall and buxom red-headed woman in a long and orange gown accompanied by her thin and very dapper pianist.

Michelle Blaumen, a mezzo-soprano with rich contralto tones, and Travis Bloom then performed an aria from Adriana Lecouvreur and Cavalleria Rusticana, then on to two French chansons or art songs, and, finally, to two American pieces, one from West Side Story (“Somewhere”) and the other the ever wondrous “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

After this, everyone sang Happy Birthday.

Given that this past week was an exceptionally hard one--far too much arrogance, far too little humility, and that's among allies; rejections of my own work; too many insane demands that I review the work of others, too little sleep, as well as the ongoing stress of the historical moment--well, it took just such an operatic moment to brighten my worn-out spirit

Travis said: "If music be the food of love..." and I chimed in: "Then play on." (That's Shakespeare's Twelfth Night).

Thus, when they asked me what kind of food I might want for dinner, I said that I'd already eaten, was more than full.

While I could complain about a veritable slew of age-related "symptoms" and an unwelcome walking disability, I must instead praise God for all my blessings, namely that I've lived long enough to see my beloved son's hair turn white and gray; long enough to have merited teenage granddaughters; long enough to have my immediate family "get me"; and long enough to have experienced just such a moment.