I miss you...

I'm not often lost for words. And it's not that I am now, but I'm trying to turn some awfully swirly thoughts into a clear post.
Let's start here: Today, I rocked an audition. I rocked it so hard.
Remember I mentioned my Grandma was a singer? She died before I was born. Throughout the years, every time I've come across someone who knew her, they only have the most wonderful, magical things to say about her. It seems she lit up a room brighter than anyone and touched everyone she met.
One day my senior year at NU, I brought in her copy of "My Funny Valentine" to Music Theatre class. It must have been from the 50's or 60's, a little browned, with her original markings in it. I set it down on the piano for Patrick (who had been accompanying these classes and my lessons on and off for two years) to play. He handled it like I imagine an Archeologist would handle a fossil. I think he told me I shouldn't have even brought the original in, but it was still cool. Anyway, I mentioned it was my grandma's, that she had been a singer around Chicago. He asked her name.
"Phyllis Spellman," I said. "But her stage name was Phyllis Parker."
He gasped.
"Phyllis Parker was your grandmother?!" I had stirred the soft spoken right out of him.
In the day of the big bands in ballrooms, I guess they all knew each other. Plus, I think Patrick and my grandma worked on a TV show together, too.
Ever since then, when I see Patrick at an audition, I treasure that for that 30 seconds, I'm performing with someone who knew my grandma, who respected her, and who lived through the things she did. (Of course, I've been doing this with my mom my whole life, but not at an audition, you know?)
So today, I get to my audition, I walk in, and (I've already ruined my punchline, but...) I see that the accompanist listed for the day is Patrick. There's a little tug on my heartstrings.
I greet a friend I haven't seen in far too long. A few minutes later, it's goodbye again, with a hug and three words whispered in my ear that give another bigger tug.
I think about the song I'm about to sing. It's about a pianist, but I've been thinking all week that it's actually a great description of what it feels like for me to sing. Tapping into that passion and emotion has already come easily. But on audition day, I, more often than not, fall victim to some amount of nerves that either leaves me feeling like I wasn't absolutely, completely in the moment, or I under or over sang just a little bit. Yes I'm hard on myself, but I know my 100%, and I don't often hit it when I get in the audition room. I know that's my job and all, but you all know I've been on this mission to be back to my old self, not me at 85% or even 90%.
So there I was, with this perfect material, this screaming heart, and a very warm welcome when I walked into the room.
Patrick and I were so, so in synch, building the song together as if we'd rehearsed it. It was effortless. And beautiful. And I was completely there, soul and voice.
I've said this before--I love the way it physically feels to sing. And I love to sing emotion--I've always felt the music along with the text. Today, I let myself go and do exactly what I love to do. No stifling of any sort. Just me, as I should/can be every time, pouring out... everything. And it wasn't just an audition win--I was able to enjoy the ride... so, so much.
Patrick told me after that I brightened his day, and when he told me I was great, he had that look in his face that meant it was more than a courtesy compliment. I really nailed it...

There are two reasons we don't get hired: 1) The audition wasn't great. 2) We just weren't right for the job (or someone else was more right).
Job or no job, this time I know I did everything I could. That's a pretty great feeling. And I am going to carry that feeling to the next one and as many more as I possibly can. Confidence goes a long way, and what I did today leaves me both hungry for more and very, very satisfied.
So... who wants to come tug at my heart next week? Actually, never mind. I think I've got it.