As a child, I learned to recognize a certain melody on the radio because my mother would announce, “That’s Clair de Lune by Debussy.” She never told us why she loved that piece of music and I never asked.
My mother had a beautiful singing voice and majored in music at college, hoping to become a performer. She traveled to California to seek work and had several impressive offers, but didn’t take any of them.
Instead she returned to Michigan to sell shoes in a store and sing in the church choir, where she met my father. I was glad she didn’t become a singer because I wanted her to be my mother. Now I wonder how she felt about that choice.
When she sang in front of my friends, I was embarrassed but in church I mouthed the words to the hymns so I could hear her voice.
I can still hear her singing Clair de Lune. The melody is so full of loveliness and longing, it contains everything I know about my mother’s life and everything I don’t know.
