Eiffel Tower up shot, courtesy of Audrey Weber
I did not watch the Olympics opening ceremonies last Friday. I haven't watched any of the games either.
From what I've heard, when it comes to the opening ceremonies, I didn't miss anything. Or, more to the point, what I missed I am fortunate to have missed.
However.
On Friday night I did look up Celine Dion's performance. I found the video on YouTube.
Pretzels stood in for logs
I'd read that she was set to be paid two million dollars to sing one song.
I didn't know what she was going to sing.
Let me point out that I am not what anyone would call a fan of Celine Dion. That doesn't mean I don't like her; I think her God-given talent is extraordinary.
Heavy equipment littered the landscape
But I don't follow her career per se; there are a few songs of hers that you can't get away from and that's about the extent of it.
When, two or three weeks ago, I saw that there was a new documentary entitled I Am: Celine Dion on Prime Video, I was not moved to watch it.
Soon enough my curiosity got the better of me though, and I watched it. In two separate sittings.
The birthday boy had a few moods to work through
It was okay and I must admit that my preliminary opinion was that she was doing a lot of whining about what she has lost rather than making a point to be grateful for all that she has had.
I mean, lots of people get older and become sick without ever having had a stellar illustrious career spanning decades, and the adulation of at least half the world, not to mention earning hundreds of millions of dollars.
Fame and fortune. The whole nine yards. Celine has enjoyed it for a very long time.
Each set of memory cards came in a small tin
And the impression I got was that she could no longer sing. That Stiff Person Syndrome has made it impossible for her to reach the notes anymore. As in, her heart will go on but her voice won't.
So I was intrigued as to how she was going to sing on a global stage at an international event, and not have it be a disaster.
To put it succinctly, I underestimated Celine Dion. Or else we've all been played.
At any rate I was not ready for her performance. In fact after watching it once, I was almost unable to process what I'd seen and heard.
Dagny atop the Eiffel Tower last May
It left me in tears. The whole glittering spectacle was almost too much.
I have watched it probably twenty times since then. I don't speak (or sing, unless you count Frère Jacques) in French, but if I did, I would have it memorized.
I cry every time. Every single time.
It helps that Celine sang Hymne à L'Amour, one of my top ten favorite songs ever.
Brownie boulders
But as I texted my girls, who along with me were getting pretty animated about Celine's Olympic moment:
Imagine standing in the Eiffel Tower at night, the city of Paris at your feet, the iconic rings glowing above your head, a light show showering fire all around you, wearing sparkling white Dior and dripping in diamonds, singing to the entire world.
And to have it turn out like that. So dazzling, so definitive.
Rhett's birthday cake was a construction site
For me it was a profound experience. I guess I need to go back and watch the documentary again, because it's clear that I missed something. Celine Dion can still sing and she just gave the performance of a lifetime.
The reason I am telling you all of this is that our Rhett turned three last week. Allow me to connect the dots.
We had a party for him a week ago Saturday, here at our house.
Stephanie and Melanie and Allissa came from North Carolina to celebrate with us.
The memory card matches were familiar faces
I had again used Personalization Mall to make him a gift I hoped he'd like: A memory card game made up of pictures of Rhett and his family members and pets and so forth. I got him two sets, for a total of forty-eight cards or twenty-four matches. That should keep him busy.
Meanwhile Elliot a/k/a Skippy was having a massively good time wearing an outfit given to his big brother by our beloved Mari, back when Rhett was tiny. It went with the whole idea of Rhett's party.
That's because Erica had decided on a construction worker theme. She made a chocolate sheet cake and used a stencil to put a big three on top in chocolate sprinkles.
I want a house made out of these
She had tiny heavy machinery doing work all over the cake, and dump trucks unloading pretzel "logs" and sugar wafer "lumber" and brownie "boulders."
So while she was setting all of that up, and Chad had gone to have some balloons inflated, and the meal was prepared all but for the grilling, I asked Rhett to pose near the table so that I could get a shot of him with his presents.
I was using my phone for the pictures while simultaneously broadcasting a playlist on Spotify.
Rhett became decidedly maudlin
There is a growing list of songs that we'll be using for Mike and Audrey's wedding, and I was playing that.
The songs are lush, romantic, heart-rending instrumentals.
As I began taking shots of Rhett and his presents and decorations, I realized that he was tuning up to cry.
There were signs along the way
I asked him what was the matter and he just pouted more.
Then I saw actual tears, so I went over and put my arms around him. By then he was out-and-out weeping, tears falling onto my lap.
Erica joined us and rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. We asked him what was the matter. Did he need a nap? Did he want to go upstairs and lounge on the guest bed and watch Paw Patrol until time to eat?
Let's build it and then eat it
But he wouldn't, or couldn't, say.
And then it came to me: it was the music. The songs I was playing on my phone. They were making him sad.
It's the music! Turn it off! I told Erica, and she did. Rhett's mood improved immediately, and a few minutes later he was playing as though nothing had happened.
There were some balloons taller than Rhett
Rhett is known for weeping when there is poignant music. He sometimes cries in church when they play Amazing Grace.
Like me whenever we sing The Old Rugged Cross as a congregational song. Never can I get through it without crying.
When Rhett was about eighteen months old, one day we were all together when Erica said, Watch this. She was holding him in her lap and she began singing My Bonny lies over the ocean, and Rhett began to cry.
I included a picture of the goose I met in Pittsburgh
She told us that every time she sang that song to him, he was reduced to tears. So she stopped singing it to him.
But he is still so affected by emotional music that we are beginning to wonder how he is going to get through the wedding in November.
He is the ring bearer and he has to be on display while the lush, romantic music plays and while his Aunt Audrey walks down the aisle on TG's arm.
There were no more tears by the time he ate his cake
We'll have to give him some pep talks before the day. Maybe immunize his emotions by playing a few bars of the songs every so often, so he gets used to hearing them.
Oh what am I saying? There won't be a dry eye in the house. Not mine, not Rhett's, and not anyone else's.
We'll just have to do our best. Like Celine did in Paris last Friday night.
Elliot is good at being happy Skippy boy
While I've been writing this, I've played Celine's Olympics video a couple of times. And yes it still brings me to tears.
Maybe the day will come when I can watch it without crying. But I hope it's not anytime soon. I kind of like it.
Is there a song that never fails to bring you to tears? Tell me in the comments.
And that is all for now.
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Happy Tuesday
