I am a reluctant singer. I don’t even sing in the shower. When I was a kid, I had to sing whenever company visited. I hated it so much, I would feel sick to my stomach until the performance was over. I developed a vibrato when I was nine or ten and my parents took it as a sign that I could sing. So, whenever my aunts or uncles would visit, or even if we went to one of their houses, I would be asked to sing. I always knew someone would ask sooner or later, and until the request came, I couldn’t eat anything, just waiting.
“Sharon, sing for us.”
I would look at my parents, and they would be smiling, nodding their heads to encourage me. I don’t know if they ever knew how I hated to sing. They gave me singing lessons and I learned to sing O Sole Mio in Italian, and some other songs I don’t remember. Finally the singing teacher suggested I take piano lessons instead. My parents must have been disappointed, but I wasn’t.
Sharon
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