If you’ve been around here a time or two, you probably know I have a love affair with country music. I’m also a classically-trained, music degree holding girl who enjoys listening to symphonies and opera. But ya know, I get just as excited hearing Paisley through my speakers as I do Prokofiev.
What can I say? I’m just a long ‘n lanky source of unpredictable eclecticism.
Truth be told, I have a stronger-than-normal affection for the country music group Lady Antebellum. I adore every song they record, but it’s impossible for me to listen to one in particular without tearing up. Every single time.
In the fall of 2011, we discovered our daughter Faith had a broken neck. Before and after her precarious but successful corrective surgery, Faith endured strict limitations on her mobility. For months, she (reluctantly but obediently) kept her physical activity to a minimum. Playing on the jungle gym during recess at school? Nope. Riding her bike around the neighborhood? Double nope. Faith couldn’t even go down the stairs at home without one of us holding her hand.
And if you think this was a difficult period for our independent, doesn’t-like-to-sit-still girl, then you’d be right on.
After adhering to this regime for months, the glorious appointment arrived when the neurosurgeon gave Faith the green light to abandon the neck brace and grab onto selective physical activity. I can still see her face taking in the news, her grin a country mile wide as her pastel world turns jewel-toned.
On the drive home, we laughed and sang a chorus of praise God from whom all blessings flow. For dinner I made Faith’s favorites: hot dogs, apple slices, and macaroni and cheese. Afterwards, I flipped on the radio while we cleared the table and swept the floors. As the music of Lady Antebellum’s “We Owned the Night” twirled through speakers and around our dining room table, I look up from the kitchen sink to find Faith doing the same. My mouth drops open at the scene before me, soapy suds dripping from my hands hanging mid-air.