you made me want to sing (a tribute to Whitney Houston)

Shortly after publishing my last post on losing my voice, I received a phone call from my sister. “Whitney Houston’s dead.”

Heart skip beat.

“Dead?”

Yes,” she said. “Whitney Houston is dead.”

Heart skip beat.

I never knew Whitney Houston personally, but I always felt comfortable enough to speak of her with only using her first name.

Whitney.

She was my idol. She was the reason I sang in the den in my basement. High notes. Low notes.

She was the reason I loved music and studying music as an art form.

Whitney.

There was no voice like hers, no voice as good as hers, so in practicing to be a singer, I was schooled by her.

I will remember her always.

Rest in peace, Whitney.

 

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