I will still keep music in my brain. Tucked away somewhere, maybe some of the stuff I really enjoy playing now, so that when all else is obscure, I can recall the tunes. Maybe even the words will be stored in there to be taken out when the music plays.
This afternoon, I went up to visit my dad. Sharon has a little bitty keyboard and she brought along dad’s violin – the one that before it was his was played by his father. I brought my recorder. For a solid hour we played. We just sat and played some of the old songs. Some Sharon and I did a fair job with – we had the music. Dad played from memory. Sharon would tell him the key and the note we started on. He took it from there. And, yeah, there were a few mistakes and his violin slipped a bit as he got tired, but he did not want to quit. If his supper had not been waiting – who knows.
What an amazing thing the mind is. The memories come and go. Some days it is good and others the talk is fairly tangled up and makes no sense at all. But the music? It lasts.
That was worship. As much as was the morning service which was very good.