My childhood was full of music. My mom would break out into song whenever the mood struck her - Broadway classics, movie tunes, church songs, traditional ballads - she had a song in her pocket for nearly every occasion. Her mother, Marjorie Skeen Russell, was also very musical. We loved to listen to her sing early 20th Century songs, as she played the piano or the organ, and couldn't wait for our turn to try them out. Sadly, I never learned to read or play music, but I have always enjoyed listening to it, and have encouraged music lessons for my kids.
When my son was a newborn, and I was in a sleepless fog, I struggled to remember the words to the songs that my mom would sing to me. Eventually they came (after I looked up the lyrics, or more often, just made up new words), and now I am the mom who has a song in my pocket. I remember groaning as my mom would get the words wrong, but now the roles have reversed, and I am the one filling in the words, as my own children roll their eyes. I hope they, too, will learn one day that it doesn't matter who is listening, or if you miss a note, or change the lyrics... singing brings joy, and a connection to everyone who has sung before you.