There are few singers that have the technical perfection, control as well as emotional range that can draw you into the lyrics as well as take you to a place in your heart where you store precious and painful memories. Lauren Allred is one such singer. Most of you probably know her from Never Enough, from the movie, The Greatest Showman. She recently released a song entitled I Hear Your Voice, dedicated to her grandmother but one that touched a chord deep within.

After losing my mother in 2016, one of greatest sorrows that resides within me is not being able to hear her voice ever again. I miss being able to simply fire off a text message or pick up the phone and have a chat. The last months I spent with her were filled with laughter and tears as we ploughed through the difficult task of navigating her losing battle to Alzheimer’s disease. It was was painful to watch such a vibrant mind and personality deteriorate, leaving her confused and rattled.
After I moved away from home in 1993, our visits were few and far between, but thanks to the magic of telecommunication, we kept in touch daily, something that ruined my phone bill, but but I don’t regret for a single moment. Now, almost seven years after her death, I still find myself reaching for the phone instinctively to call her and ask a question about cooking or baking, or just to hear the warmth of voice, that all embracing blanket of unconditional love that reassured me that things were going to be alright.

I still hear her sounds of incredulity when something unexpected happened, or I told her a story about her granddaughter. Strangely enough, I even miss her temperamental explosions when something didn’t go according to plan or someone did not follow her instructions. Those long talks about life, womanhood, motherhood, and faith from her wise and generous spirit resonate deep within my soul and are the foundation who I am today. Her courage and strength are deeply ingrained within me, and I often catch myself striving to meet her standards, hoping not to displease her. She was my best friend, my life coach and mentor, a woman who lived and understood cross generational communication.
I still hear her voice.
I always miss her voice.
I can still hear the voices of all the great women in my life who have gone ahead, and there are wonderful memories attached to them, but none as powerful and moving to my soul as my mother’s. I suppose some losses we will never recover from, and some voices we will perpetually wish we could hear again.