Actually, her given name was Martha. Nobody ever called her that, though. It was always "Twick." This gracious lady was a staunch supporter of me and my music. Hers was the face I looked for in the congregation for encouragement.
Twick passed away on Thursday of cancer. Lung cancer. She had none of the risk factors. Just one of those unexplainable things.
I was honored to be asked to sing for Twick's funeral service today. It was quite an occasion. Four members of the clergy, two lay speakers, two soloists, and a jazz trumpeter were all part of the service that Twick had spent her last weeks planning.
I got through my solo. I was behind a huge stand of flowers and had difficulty seeing the family. I was handcuffed by my choir director's wish for piano accompaniment to a song that begged to be allowed the freedom of being sung a cappella. Asthma, MG, and exhaustion worked together to make breathing more difficult than usual. Although I know few, if any, in the congregation noticed, I was left feeling frustrated and unsatisfied with what I wanted to be my very best effort.
All I can do now is pray that God took my less than perfect effort and made it good enough.
At least for Twick.
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2 comments:
The best part of what you do when you do this for people you've loved comes from your heart, not from your vocal chords, and never forget that the ears of those who mourn with you are tuned to the grace frequency.
((KK)) - oh, sooo what El said.
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