A few weekends ago Jenny came down with a case of LSS. According to her, this is Last Song Syndrome. It’s where you keep singing the last song you heard over and over again. I think it’s a poorly labeled condition. It sounds impossible to cure because you’re always in a constant loop.
The song Jenny got lodged in her head was Hallelujah. There are many versions of the song. She specifically favored the 1990s heart-wrenching cover by notoriously bad swimmer Jeff Buckley.
At home. In the park. And probably at the Chinese restaurant we ate at that Saturday where she took pictures of the fat kid who works there. These were all her venue to sing.
Unlike I, Jenny has an amazing singing voice. She has more musical talent in her dead conjoined twin than I do in my whole body. And she doesn’t even know she has a conjoined twin on her back! No one knows how to tell her at this point. We feel like she’d just feel super offended by the fact that we’ve kept quiet for so long.
The song itself is a beautiful one. It’s difficult to screw up because of how powerful it is. Hallelujah is a big word itself. It’s like love, fire, or donut; you don’t want to use it unless it’s true.
Jenny and I have had our share of hallelujah moments in the last 365 days. It’s been only a little more than a year since we first submitted our petition. Today is also the anniversary of our second beecation together.
While all of those times feel like hallelujah, only the moment when she finally walked through the airport gate is deserving of such high praise. It had been months since our dry skin had touched. That’s far too long for anyone to go away from the person they love most.
And just so you too can share in the delight that is my wife’s singing voice, here she is performing Hallelujah. She can’t get mad at me either for sharing it because she’s the one who put it online.