Chad leaned over during the hymn and whispered in my better ear, “Mom, it’s time you start singing melody. You’re starting to sound like Dad.”
Someday I’m gonna buy him a baseball cap I saw on a friend in California. It read,”MAMA TRIED.”
Maggie and I shared the hymnal. I’d sung alto for as long as I could remember. She, a staunch carrier of the soprano part, seemed to struggle that morning. I wondered why as I belted out my part, until my son solved the puzzle with his news flash.
“Sounding like Dad” was not a complement. We’d made fun of Jud’s singing forever, now it was my turn to take the hit. Wishing he was beside me so we could be slightly off-kilter together.
Aging comes with conditions. Maybe this condition called “hearing loss” meant I was just slightly off, turning harmony into something debatable.
Later I cornered Lily, eldest and highly loyal Grand, and said, “It’s tough growing older.”
‘You’ve always been old.”
Then she, a lot like her Uncle, laughed, as we’d done in church, adding,”To grandchildren, grandparents are old. You’ve always been old, Momo.” Adding quickly, “In a good way.”
“Old in a good way.”
I’ll take it.
Along with the melody and this verse, part of my prayer for as long as I can remember.
“Now that I am old and gray, do not abandon me, O God. Let me proclaim your power to this new generation, your mighty miracles to all who come after me.” (Psalm 71:18 NLT)
Maybe I should wear a hat: SON TRIED.
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