It’s a little hard to write my note this month because it seems like I should be writing about my Dad. But instead, I’m busy writing songs. If I could pick one thing that I like to do the most, it would be songwriting. Time stops, the world fades away, and I am one with the spirit of lyric and song. Words drop from the sky. My fingers mysteriously find their way on the keys. Creative excitement owns me, and little mortal me practically disappears. In fact, all vanishes but the music. It’s magic! I fall in love with each song, and I am grateful to my very core.

It’s time to put Mom & Dad’s photos up on the mantel again in accordance with my yearly tradition. When I was little, we had a different custom. May 1st meant dancing around the Maypole, weaving brightly colored streamers into a beautiful pattern, and handing out May Baskets full of flowers. It was a fun and lovely way of celebrating Spring, or so we thought. Unaware that the holiday had been assigned a new meaning in the late 19th century, we were happy in our innocence. (Actually, as savvy as I’d like to be, it’s still easy to catch myself in blatant naivete.) Anyway, it’s May again, and I have quite a case of “Songwriting Fever”. The melodies are dropping from the sky like blossoms in the breeze, and I’m gathering them up in a crazy frenzy. What a blissful blessing…. Best May Basket ever!

They didn’t cast me. Honestly, my first reaction was surprise! (Color me confident.) At any rate, it’s ok. In fact, it’s good. Auditioning for America’s Got Talent was an amazing adventure, but apparently the Powers That Be have a better way for me to get my songs out to the world. It appears that this was only a path of preparation: Intense preparation that grew my presence, shined-up my material, polished my appearance, strengthened my voice, and left me with an increased sense of self-worth. No wonder there are no tears. It’s all working out perfectly. So, what’s next? I am listening…

I came with the intention of loving everyone. It was easy. The holding room at the Phoenix Convention Center was wall to wall with brave people living their lives fully. Some of the younger people looked a bit like they were headed for the guillotine, and my heart really went out to them. It made me glad to be older, with enough experience to recognize that this was not a life and death matter. Shortly, another woman near my age sat down next to me. As the hours ticked by, we shared our histories, dreams, and faith. We found ourselves on the same page in different books, and so Diana turned into my best new friend. Others came and went around us, and we chatted, entertained, and attempted to help quell their performance anxiety. They finally called our numbers, sending us in different directions. I met some other lovely folks who needed some encouraging words, while we waited some more. At last, we entered the piano room. I was busy complimenting the young girl who performed before me, when they called my number. Whoops! But it actually got my energy flowing, as I jumped up and practically ran over to the X trying to make up for lost time. We were supposed to state our name, age and song. “I’m Cynthia Bythell, published song writer, and I’m 65”, I said proudly. “I’d like to dedicate this original to everybody who’s auditioning.” Before I knew it, my 90 second inspirational piano/vocal The Wish Planet was finished. And then it happened. The producer complimented me! (She was definitely easy to love.) It was a delicious five hour adventure to audition for America’s Got Talent. I’m still waiting. But now, it’s with great suspense for the results. When I turn the next page of the book, which way will my life go? In the meantime, I’ve turned 66…..