We had our first Good Memories rehearsal last week. It was a joyous occasion. Several singing volunteers were there today, people who hadn’t sung with us since the spring. This reunion is a happy time with lots of hugs. Also, five new singers joined the choir—two pairs, where someone has memory loss and the other is the care partner (spouses, in both cases) and a person who came on her own. It’s always a time for joy when new people come to Good Memories—not only because the choir grows but, more importantly, because it means that in each case a family took a leap of faith to put themselves in an unfamiliar place in the hope of creating some extra fun and joy in their lives, and to do something together that is a source of shared happiness. It’s a leap of faith from the family, and to us it feels like love.

We sang the usual opening song, “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning,” done with great gusto. One of the ways we show love is to sing this song at the top of every rehearsal. It gives a rush of joy and provides to everyone the comfort of doing something totally familiar. Even first-timers can jump in with enthusiasm and follow the goofy hand motions that we learned from the Giving Voice Chorus five years ago, when Good Memories first started.

Then we sat down and dug into the repertoire. We touched on all eight pieces, a little bit, or a lot, just to give a flavor of all of the music for this session. Good Memories rehearsals typically cover less musical material than do Sounds Good rehearsals—this is par for the course—and we do a lot of cheerleading and encouraging. These were needed today, since some of the pieces are tricky, unfamiliar, or both. Slowing down the pace is an act of love.

At the movement break, Sandy and Amy did their usual lovely job, with Amy playing a beautiful piece of piano music—she always picks cool stuff—and Sandy leading the gentle stretching and “Move and Groove” exercises. These are designed to get us (mostly) standing up and working the kinks out of our bodies, which get a little tight after 45 minutes of singing, especially when we’ve been working on brand-new music. I make my way to the back and stand next to my buddy, Joel, during Move and Groove. Sandy’s gentle and kind spirit pours out in the way she leads us all.

At the end of the movement break, Sandy asks us to do arm circles. Then she asks us to keep our arms extended and reach over and pat our neighbor on the shoulder and say, “Good job.” This is an act of love, too; not only are people with memory loss given gentle physical touch less often than others, but they and their families are often so busy focusing on what they can’t do that it’s easy to forget to affirm and rejoice in what they can do. Joel and I enjoy patting each other on the shoulder every time. There was a day when he and his wife weren’t at choir, and I missed that part the most!

And then there are snacks! Sandy brought yummies today, and then the months-long snacks rotation begins. Next week it will be Rosalie’s turn, which is always a treat for the rest of us. Snacks are a delightful time. Food is a great icebreaker and provider of comfort. Snacks are another way we show love. The staff at Fourth Presbyterian bring us coffee every week, which they did spontaneously this spring, without our ever asking… it’s one of their many acts of love to us. Anyway, we were all a little tired from all of the singing, yet energized, too. Our break for snacks comes at the right time and helps power us through the rest of practice.

We went back to rehearsing. We probably had the most fun doing “Hava Nagila” as part of Linda Spevacek’s “Hanukkah Nagilah,” a hilarious and clever piece of music. Teaching Hebrew is an act of love, too. We got some compliments on the choice of music for this session. I hope I make it very clear that picking music for a choir is an act of love; Linda and I, and Sandy and I for the summer session, always put heart and soul into finding just the right combination of music every session. When I was with Chicago a cappella, I told the singers once that picking their repertoire was the number one way I showed my love for them.

We finished rehearsal with our usual closing song, “Happy Trails to You.” We have a huge foam-board sign with the lyrics that Sandy holds up over her head, which allows people to effortlessly read the words and sing along. The making of this sign is another act of love because we know how much it helps everyone to end on a joyous and confident note. Even the discount that our local printer gave us on the foam board is his loving act to all of us, as is the standing discount that he gives to Sounds Good Choir for every job we bring him. He really believes in what we do.

After rehearsal Sandy and I were talking with some of the singers. One of the first timers, who has been an enthusiastic audience member for years, was blown away by what she saw “on the inside” during rehearsal as a member of the choir. She could tell, she told us, because she was right there in it, experiencing how much emotional energy Sandy and I put into rehearsal. I immediately started to cry, partly because I was exhausted and partly because it felt so good in that moment to have our work truly and fully seen for what it is. Sandy is right there with me in this, and Sandy replied, “Yes, and what we get back is so much more that what we give.”  

The community that we have built here is a singing family. In case you ever wondered what love looks like, just look around your choir rehearsal. The love that we show for each other is real and life-affirming. Because you bring your love, too—every single person who contributes in any way, singing or helping, in large or small ways, intermittent or all the time, keeps this musical locomotive on the track and chugging along. If you are reading this, then you are part of this, and what you do matters: you are essential, and we can’t do this without you. We are grateful to every singer, every volunteer, every donor, every staff member, every board member, everyone in the audience—all of you.

Keep the love going.