Oh, where to even begin? I’ve sung in her ear for years, because the basses sit right behind the altos. Even after the cancer diagnosis, as long as she could muster some energy, she was still climbing the stairs to the balcony and singing.
Music ran through her soul. And that’s why I think she so delighted in her grandson’s taking to the organ and showing a remarkable aptitude upon it.
When she wasn’t able to make it to choir anymore, on numberless choir rehearsals, Ann and Kantor called her up and asked if we could sing to her. Her response never varied: “Sure!” Sometimes we sang an old favorite choir piece, but more often than not just hymns.
She’d probably say: “Just hymns? Did you really say that?” For the hymns carry the whole comfort of the Gospel into the depths of our soul. I pity those who have never been given the chance to love them like Dale did.
She and Doc had the naughty habit of disappearing to Hawaii for several weeks during those unfortunate weeks of February (okay, I might have been a bit jealous). We always counted the days down till their return. But one year that didn’t happen. It was the first diagnosis of trouble. I think she still tried to sing all through that time. It reminded me of the old Shaker hymn:
“My life flows on in endless song above earth’s lamentation. I hear the real, though far off hymn, how can I keep from singing?”
THAT was Dale. She couldn’t keep from singing!
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