Music in My Heart: My Journey with Melody

I haven’t played “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” in so long, but something about it feels right. Melody says it’s the first song we heard at Uncle Al and Auntie Josephine’s, so we should play it for them.

Val doesn’t know the song, but says she’ll cheer us on from the grass, clearly relieved not to join us onstage. Melody takes my hand as we climb the steps. I can barely catch my breath, grateful I’m not the one singing.

I sit at the piano, and the crowd grows quiet. Please let me remember how this goes, I think. As I start to play, it comes back to me, and Melody’s voice drifting across the crowd almost makes me forget I’m playing at all.

Then I spot movement, Poppa pushing to the front of the stage, Cousin Charles right behind him carrying trays of barbecued ribs. They must’ve heard Melody over the loudspeaker and come running. Seeing them gives me a warm feeling, like they’re my family too, and I laugh and fumble a couple of notes.

Melody sings on, and nobody seems to notice my mistake, too busy enjoying the music. I keep playing, that peaceful feeling settling over me again. The song reminds me of Al and Josephine’s, of Grammy, and now, it’ll remind me of Big Momma, Poppa, and those silly ribs too.

When we finish, Big Momma leads the applause as Melody and I take a bow. Back on the grass, she pulls us into a hug and says she’s never heard the song performed more beautifully. She touches Melody’s cheek and lifts my chin too, saying we shouldn’t feel sad about Al and Josephine. We just showed everyone that when there’s passion for good music, the music goes on.

Suddenly, I understand. Grammy’s gone, but when I play the music she loved, it’s like she’s right there with me. Long after Al and Josephine’s is torn down, the memory of that place will stay with me too, and even after I go home, I can bring Melody and her family back anytime with a song.