By Bob Morrison
Who can really sing? Well, at first thought, I was not the best choice for this scripture or so I thought. That rascally Randy Edwards picked me for this verse knowing it was a challenge for me. But even with my untrained screeching, I know a good voice when I hear it – and the best one belonged to my grandmother (or maybe yours!). At 81 years of age, the doctors told us she had only months to live so we did what countless families have done before us and moved her to a nursing home (no Hospice back then) near the family so all could be with her. Her music could be heard the moment you entered the building. She was beginning to lose her eyesight and hearing, yet her voice was sweet and gentle and filled with the hymns of my childhood. In the beginning of her stay there, this preacher’s wife played the piano for others and led the singing – no one there needed a hymnal. She would tell us, “I don’t know why my Jesus hasn’t come to get me.” My voice was never good, but I came to love the music because she did. When the day came that she left us for that heavenly choir, the music was still in the nursing home . . . and it never left our hearts. We buried her on her 100th birthday!