A singer remembered.

Many years ago, there was a health care center I went to often to sing. I sang a mixture of folk music, my own songs and a couple of hymns. A woman caught my attention the first time that I went there, because she sat directly in front of me, and was very quick to pick up choruses of songs she'd never heard. After I finished singing the first time, she came over to me and told me all about herself. She had sung in choirs all of her life, played organ and piano with church choirs and was very proud to tell me that she often sang solos. I could see why. She had a very strong voice and good pitch. Far more vibrato than I like, but it probably blended in well with the church choirs where she sang.

The next time I came there, she was ready for me. She had a good memory, so she was almost doing duets with me. Again, she got me aside to talk to me at great length, and was bursting with excitement.
After a few months, I went back to the nursing home, and there she was, sitting in the front row, although this time, she could barely sit on the chair on her own. She was very excited to see me and motioned me over. When I came over to talk with her, I realized what had happened. She had had a massive stroke, was partially paralyzed, and worst of all, could barely talk. She would struggle to get her tongue around one word, and then there'd be a long pause before she could get the next one out. I really felt compassion for her, because she was so excited to see me, but could barely get a short sentence out. And then, I started to sing, and something very beautiful happened. This woman, who could no longer talk was unable to form the words to the songs, but she sang along anyway, just singing nonsense sounds with perfect pitch. You could se the rapture on her face, being able to sing with me. If there ever was a woman who sang out of love, it was her.

The next time I came, she had died, but I still remember her today, as surely as if she was singing along with me.

Jerry