One of my favorite memories of our time in the States this summer, right up there with early morning brunch with two wise women from Kenosha, walking the boardwalk in Duluth with friends who gave up much to love me where I was, and playing in parks with my kids, right up with that list was the evening of the Hymn Sing.
On a whim and a daughter-in-law's wish we packed in a car shuttled over to Jay Jay's house and sang our hearts out for one hour, prayed and left. We just sang. And Sang. And Sang. My lovely mother-in-law played the piano while we stood around and belted out old favorites. It still chokes me up. I felt family that evening. Mainly because it is something my family would do and does almost every night. Okay not for an hour but sometimes that long. My teenage brother belts them out in a truly tenor gorgeous voice. My mom starts us off with unerring accuracy for the right note. My littlest sister has a mean soprano and my other sis sings harmony without a flinch. My dad sings with gusto. Me too. I sing with gusto.
Today was our day off. We stayed in pjs for hours. We played hide and go seek. We didn't go look to see who was fighting in the gully. We took a nap. We turned on flashlights and looked at all the objects in the living room. We sang. We sang all the Christmas songs in our hymn book (minus the two or three we did not know). We sang then and cuddled up and Abe warbled while piling all the pillows, Zana curled up tight and then danced, then sang, then curled up again. It was sweet. It was family.
On a whim and a daughter-in-law's wish we packed in a car shuttled over to Jay Jay's house and sang our hearts out for one hour, prayed and left. We just sang. And Sang. And Sang. My lovely mother-in-law played the piano while we stood around and belted out old favorites. It still chokes me up. I felt family that evening. Mainly because it is something my family would do and does almost every night. Okay not for an hour but sometimes that long. My teenage brother belts them out in a truly tenor gorgeous voice. My mom starts us off with unerring accuracy for the right note. My littlest sister has a mean soprano and my other sis sings harmony without a flinch. My dad sings with gusto. Me too. I sing with gusto.
Today was our day off. We stayed in pjs for hours. We played hide and go seek. We didn't go look to see who was fighting in the gully. We took a nap. We turned on flashlights and looked at all the objects in the living room. We sang. We sang all the Christmas songs in our hymn book (minus the two or three we did not know). We sang then and cuddled up and Abe warbled while piling all the pillows, Zana curled up tight and then danced, then sang, then curled up again. It was sweet. It was family.
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