Sometimes it's possible to detach from sadness and focus on the song while blocking out the reality. Sort of temporary denial. I flew back from visiting a daughter in California the day after my father died and the day before I had a concert to do in New York. I did the concert. Somehow I stuffed down my stress for the duration of the evening. It was for the sake of the audience, I think, not some special technique. They paid to hear an evening of singing, and how unfair to subject them to my personal sadness.

Sometimes it's NOT possible to detach, which comes under the head of "So what?". I had a son, a fine musician, who died of cancer. Some of you remember Marty. Several musician friends who came to the funeral stood around the coffin as part of the service and sang "Who Will Sing For Me." I sang too--for him. I wept all the way through it, but sang anyway by hanging onto the words like a life raft, and so did the guys in the band and so did everybody else. I don't think anyone there was ashamed of showing feelings, or cared if the singing was wobbly or the voice was cracking. It was a few minutes nobody would forget, and was truly an example of how songs can unify and comfort us.

Joan