Gentle rain

Sunday brunch at Ryles with my colleague, who happens to live right around the corner. The jazz trio, guitar, bass and flute, were taking old favorite tunes and stretching, folding, chopping them into perky sonorities.  Sipping our bloody mary's and mimosas, we admired the playing and chatted about our school, our histories, our plans. Both of our wives have birthdays this month, so the passage of time was on our mind.

Then, the trio leader announced a request to be sung by an audience member: Could Roy come up?  Then from one of the tables, a tall old fellow stood and started to walk forward depending on a cane. "For his ninetieth birthday, Roy plans to sing that Diana Krall classic Gentle Rain", announced the flute player, and he did, with aplomb, his voice steady though with some faltering with the high notes. It was a Leonard Cohen-ish performance.

We congratulated him as he went back to his party. He must have practicing singing all along to be so confident and to sing so well.

We both are lost and alone in the world
Walk with me in the gentle rain
Don't be afraid, I've a hand for your hand
And I will be your love for a while.

I feel your tears as they fall on my cheek
They are warm like the gentle rain
Come, little one, you have me in the world
And our love will be sweet, very sweet.

Our love will be sweet, very sad
Very sweet like gentle rain, 
Like the gentle rain, like the gentle rain.

To make such poignancy public on your ninetieth, and so straightforwardly, seems a kind of courage, for which I admire you, old man.