…owing up, it always struck me as odd that my dad didn’t seem to have any real hobbies or interests. On his hospital deathbed, he told me about these lessons, his hopes for the future, the ambitions he’d harbored all along but was too shy, too self-conscious, too worried about others’ opinions, to pursue. Remaining ever practical, he then asked me to call the singing teacher to apologize and cancel that week’s lesson. Dutifully, I went into the waiting area and did just that. The next day, I called back and canceled all of them.