Uggh.
Were we about to unpack the NFL controversy? I was already tired. I had a lot on my plate and had had some pretty fitful sleep the night before.
A discussion about the anthem? Now?
*internal face wipe*
I took a drag of air and sat back down.
Me: "Yes, ma'am. As a matter of fact, I do." *beaming like a know-it-all child*
Her: *looking suspicious* "ALL of ‘em?"
Me: "Ma’am?”
Her: “You heard me. You know ALL 3 verses?”
She raised an eyebrow. No chance of getting off the hook with her.
Eek.
I unpuffed my chest.
Me: “Uhhh. . .not all 3 by memory."
Her: "Well, you need to learn 'em ALL by heart.”
*silence*
Her: *pointing at me* “'Specially that last one.”
I puffed my cheeks out, squinted, and tried to comb my brain for the words to verse 3.
Nada.
Me: “Dang. I used to know them.”
My mind wafted back to my years as a surly middle schooler. Our class had been charged with singing “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing” by James Weldon Johnson for a Black History Week program.
But only verse one. Easy enough.
Right? Right.
But then I came home and made the mistake of telling my HBCU-educated, always-wanting-their-children-to-do-more-than-the-minimum parents about it. And somehow learning “verse 1 only” became verses 1,2, AND 3.
Uggh.
Middle school me was not pleased.
My patient gave me a half smile and blinked slowly. Then she spoke in her low, gravelly voice.
Her: “See that first verse tell you to make a joyful noise from how far we come.”
She patted her bosom.
Her: “And to stay hopeful.”
Me: *nodding and quietly recalling the words*
After a few beats, I pulled out my iPhone and punched in "Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing Lyrics" into a Google search.
Then I turned the screen to show her the words.
Me: "Want me to read it?"
Her: "Yes. But READ it, not sing it, hear?"
*laughter*
Me: “Oh trust me, you don’t want me singing.”
Her: “Naw—it ain’t that. I want you to READ it so you can really feel the words, see.”
Me: *nodding* “Yes, ma’am.”
I slipped on my reading glasses and began to read.
By the time I read that last stanza, I was full on weeping.
Her: *sighs* “Amen!”
She waved a hand to the heavens and shook her head hard.
Her: “Let yourself feel it.”
We sat for a few moments in quiet reflection. Then, a moist sniffle broke the silence.
A loud, raspy voice spoke from the other side of the curtain.
Neighbor: “That make me want to CRY!”
It was clear that she already was.
My patient turned her head toward the voice and smiled. Then she looked back back at me, her doctor.
She patted her ample chest again.
Her: "Not me. Make ME want to SHOUT."
Hallelujah, man.
People ask why I love Grady so much. THIS is why.
THIS. THIS THIS THIS.
Damn, I love this job.
#thisisGrady #blackhistory #amazinggrady #loveisthewhat
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