Tonight, after reading books and turning off the light:
"Mom, will you sing me a song?"
"My voice is a little scratchy, but I'll do my best."
I sing all three verses of "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing," squeaking here and there.
* * *silence* * *
"I love you, Mom....
* * *
and that wasn't scratchy.
* * *
It was beautiful."
Monday, November 10, 2014
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