This past summer, when I was running and singing and dancing and playing with my nieces and my nephews and my brothers and my sisters and my mother and my grandmother in the Colorado Rockies, I couldn't help but think of that doctor who told me that I couldn't sing.
La scorsa estate mentre correvo e cantavo, ballavo e giocavo con i miei nipoti, i miei fratelli e sorelle, mia mamma e la nonna a Colorado Rockies, non riuscivo a non pensare a quel medico che mi aveva detto che non avrei mai più cantato.