I never realised how important growing up in a musical family was for me. In Korea, I noraebahng, play around on a ukulele, and sing a wee bit on the ultimate field to get everyone's spirits up. But, I don't really have a specific time dedicated to making music or experiencing it. But, in the 24 hours that I've been home, music has been everywhere, and everything seems right again.
My family unit, always evolving, has once again shown me that home is about people not places--making memories. Finding peace. As we sat around the living room, Sarah played the piano, and we all sang Ben Folds with Penelope changing dance partners like it was a Virginia Reel. Then, Sarah played our special song, and together we sang, cried, and leaned into one another like we did so long ago.
Then, this morning at Mass, the hymns were all oldies but goodies. And, even though I am no longer Roman Catholic, I will admit that their hymns are top notch. We sang a very familiar song for the "preparation of the gifts." And, together, we announced our parts in harried whispers in the pew and rocked that hymn with a solid SATB harmony (plus P's enthusiastic warbling understood only by other babies and God). If we were in a noraebahng (Korean singing room), we would have gotten a 100%, no question.
Of course, church isn't about SATB harmonies, but there is a sense of peace that comes from knowing that despite time and distance, there's something distinctly familiar about raising our voices, making music, and feeling at home.