Chiara woke up from her nap too early and too cranky today. When I arrived at her bed, she clung to me and asked if I would sing Row, Row, Row Your Boat and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. That seemed easy enough. As I started heading downstairs with her, she yelled, “No, in your room,” which seemed kind of odd until I figured out that she wanted me to take the guitar out of my closet and play, something I almost never do anymore.
I was half tempted to tell her that I needed to work and would play the guitar later, but decided that I could squeeze in a couple of songs. I tuned up the guitar and sang her special requests, and then she said, “Now you sing one of your songs by yourself.” And so back and forth we went, a song for Chiara, a song for me. I haven’t sung for me in so long I almost didn’t remember what to sing. As we sat there on the bed, an icy rain clicking against the windows, I suddenly felt a wave of peace settle over me. It was as if Chiara knew exactly what we both needed at exactly the right moment. Read more