If have to fly alone

at least I'm flying free

I want to tell you a story about why I’ve been so joyfully, wonderfully living my life with a song or scene from Wicked in my head at all times for the last week.

A few weeks ago, my daughter and I were driving home from the ferry to our apartment. She had been at a play rehearsal, so it was about 6 pm. And in Seattle, in the winter, that time is pitch-black dark.

Lucy asked if she could play her music playlist, an ever-growing collection of songs from musicals she loves. “Of course!” I told her. So, as we wound our way home, songs from Descendants and Mary Poppins and The Music Man sounded out in the car.

And we sang together.

As we were turning onto the street behind our apartment, this line rang out:

“I hope you’re happy!”

We looked at each other and both shouted in glee.

And we began singing.

We parked in the driveway, and she looked at me.

“Can we please stay here and finish the song?”

“Of course we will!” I said to her, giggling.

And so the two of us sang “Defying Gravity,” belting it out together, our voices blending in the darkness. About halfway through, I started crying, pausing for a word or two to find my voice through the tears.

Why the tears?