The Happy Little Blue Bird

     It was the evening of Wednesday, January 25th, 2012.  I stood in the cozy nail and make-up boutique surrounded by women, most of whom I hardly knew.  We had been lured there by the owners of said boutique, two sisters who believe that anything is possible.  They had a dream, the two of them, to one day stand on the stage of the legendary Cliff Bells in Detroit and sing.  They therefore, set into motion events leading up to this evening and the performance that would soon come to be.  There we all stood with one thing in common, we loved to sing.
     As we were led through a series of vocal warm ups I felt a little off balance, a little light headed perhaps.  This didn't concern me at all, because I knew what was causing these sensations.  I was harboring a dream of my own, you see.  I was in the beginning stages of growing a new human being.  This was confirmed by a medical professional only a few hours prior to our first group rehearsal.  We women who had been chosen, some would say coerced, into participating were to chose a torch song.  A song that had traditionally been sung by a woman during the 1930's or so.  A song that was heart wrenching, a tale of love lost or never meant to be.
     That evening, many of the women  in attendance sang their songs.  Songs to the tune of Cry Me a River, Black Coffee, Come Rain, or Come Shine and Crazy were all chosen.  I hadn't yet chosen my song.  I thumbed trough a list of songs that had been complied by our vocal coach, some of them caught my eye, but none more than Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I thought of what a wonderful lullaby it would make for my happy little blue bird that was growing inside me.  When I mentioned the song, Cheryl gasped "Oh I was hoping someone would pick that song!"  She looked at me as only Cheryl could.  It was a look that seemed to say, "You are just innocent and sweet enough to pull this off...do it, do it, please."
     I wondered exactly how that song could be considered a torch song.  After all it came from the classic movie The Wizard of Oz, a movie I understood as a starry eyed childhood realization that dreams really do come true and the power to change dream to reality was already inside of you.  I lacked, at that time, the true understanding of the song.  It was an understanding I would only come to much later.  October 2nd, 2012 to be exact.
     Despite my naivety with regards to how the song fit into the theme, I chose this as my torch song anthem.  I stepped up in front of the group to sing...
     "Somewhere over the rainbow," I sang with a nervous vibrato, "way up high. 
     There's a land that I've heard of once in a lullaby."  
I remember, though I felt nervous to be singing in font of this new group of people, I felt warmed knowing that I was singing to my baby.  A baby only three people on earth knew was in existence.  I thought about what a strong connection this child would have to this song and my voice.
     "Somewhere over the rainbow," I continued, "skies are blue.
      And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."
That line is one that would come to haunt me.
     I sit here now, exactly eleven weeks after the dream that I dared to dream was due to come true.  You see, my happy little blue bird flew away from me as quickly as she came earth side.   Perhaps it was the dare.  I dared to dream that I would get to hold on to my little blue bird.  I dared to dream that I would hold her in my arms, kiss her head, watch her as I lovingly nursed her at my breast.  I dared to dream that I would feel her hot breath and tender skin against my chest, that I would hear her laugh, see her smile, and watch her grow into a beautiful person.  I dared to dream that the two of us would make so many beautiful memories together.  Perhaps I should have know better than to dare.  It was a tempt for fate I suppose.  The superstitions of my ancestors should have taught me better than to dare.
     I now understand how Somewhere Over the Rainbow fits into the torch song category.  You see, dreams don't really get to come true.  Not, at least, the way you dare them to.  That place over the rainbow where troubles melt like lemon drops is not a place I get to go or know.