Crying at a Choir Concert

             From the time I was coherent, and probably before that, my mother and father have said bedtime prayers with me and my brother, the most prominent one in my memory being:

"May the Lord bless you and keep you,

May he make his face SHIIIIINE (insert splayed hands beside the face) upon you and be gracious to you,

May he lift his eyes toward you (at this point me, my dad, and my brother would unite foreheads)

And give you peace and joy.

[With a piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream and hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows]"

               I'm assuming that my brother and/or I added that last part at some point during toddlerhood. We had this bedtime routine every night up until around the time we entered middle school and got lost in all of our respective activities. My senior year of high school, I was privileged to be a part of my school's Chamber choir (highest mixed ensemble, 64 members) and Varsity choir (touring show choir of 24 members). From the first informal concert I performed with my fellow Varsity members, I predicted the forming of strong bonds with the group throughout the year and the inevitable tears that would ensue at the May concert. My prediction came true, but for more reasons than I initially anticipated. It is a tradition at Manhattan High School that at the final concert of the year the director invites all alumni up to the stage to participate in the last song: The Lord Bless You And Keep You. The initial iconic relation I had to this song the first time I heard it during class was that the soft piano arpeggios and the euphonious/flowing melody sounded to me like a lullaby (the sign of the melody operating for the object of a lullaby). The interpretant that followed was a feeling of comfort and youth, and remembrance of a time when comfort was recurrently needed (infancy/toddlerhood). After singing through the song, I had a strong indexical relationship with the title, it being a sign that reminded me of the bedtime prayer my dad would say with me. Elaborating on that object, the title represented my nostalgia for childhood, and more specifically the tendency of children to adhere unconditionally to ideals and concepts that bring them comfort (at that time, it was my religion that was instilled in me by my parents). This effectively prompted me to wish I was a child again and forget all the doubts, questions, confrontations, discussions, and struggles I have gone through while maturing that made identifying with my religion (or a religion in general) much more difficult. Finally, the lyrics speak of the Lord watching over us and giving us peace. These words signify and represent guidance and protection--paired with the fact that I was about to graduate high school, the interpretant that was achieved was an understanding that my parents/teachers/directors were all in some way (directly expressing to me or not) wishing me well in my future life endeavors. All within the frame of being surrounded by my peers in the collective vulnerability that is singing (with all your heart and soul while sobbing), the overall outcome was a feeling of complete acceptance by those around me, gratitude for my opportunity to sing with them throughout my senior year, and paradoxical mourning for the 'eternity' of high school and Chamber choir experiences that had passed and emotional preparedness/excitement for the unforeseeable 'eternities' in store.