There's pretty much two things that you'll catch me doing 23/7. Whistling or sleeping. It's one or the other. Pretty much. And in the uneventful occasion that I'm not preoccupied with either of those, more likely than not you'll probably catch me singing.
Yes, I know that right now you're probably feeling sorry for the dear souls who have to live around me. Unfortunate, I know, but I've never seemed to be able to help it. It's habit. It's my expression, spirit lifter, smile maker, and part of what makes my world go 'round. And incidentally, it's also more feasible than singing when you're sick, which I seem to be more often than not these days.
Well a while ago now I heard this disturbing rumor... Good Karen girls don't whistle? Dreadful! But it went in one ear and promptly out the other. And when my dear mother reminded me my immediate response was, "Well they do now!" (Completely forgetting the fact that I'm not a Karen girl.)
Since then the same words have graced my ears at least once or twice. But I still was quick to put it aside as a bunch of foolishness. After all, there's nothing wrong with being a bit different. Then today I was seriously (though kindly) informed by a good Karen friend that, no indeed, good Karen girls do not whistle. But there's nothing wrong with being a bit different. Right? Or a maybe wrong when it may build a wall or bring prejudice between you and the people that you long to serve. The people who have your heart.
And so it appears that Whistling and I shall be parting company. If this be goodbye forever or goodbye for now, I cannot tell.
Farewell, my dear friend. You have been a faithful companion. A beautiful friend. Been with me through thick and thin. Given me hope and many smiles. Put a song in many hearts. And spread much joy.
You will be missed. But in those times when it just becomes too much, I trust that you're Sister Singing will be my great comfort...
And so, farewell, Dear Whistling, farewell.