A Bittersweet Moment

You may recall that I walked out of church on Pentecost Sunday nearly a year ago, no longer willing to listen to the rantings of a misogynist, gay-bashing, lying, venom-spewing, hate-mongering “man of God.”  I spent Sunday mornings reading the lessons, listening to podcasts of sermons and reading lectionary commentary. DH continued to attend in order to lend support to the choir and the organist. When the minister finally succeeded in effecting the resignation of our (not up to the jerk’s standards) organist, I finally accepted that my time at that church was done, and I started attending the Episcopal Church. DH, equally disturbed, followed me.

Said organist took an open job at that Episcopal church, and called for choir members.

The first rehearsal was last evening, and it was wonderful to raise my voice (after a year of no choir) in praise with a group of like minded singers.  The organist brought much of his music with him from the other church,some of which bore the names of prior users.  The woman on my left in the new choir listened as we all introduced ourselves, learned that DH and I had sung under the direction of the organist before, and when she opened a piece of music and saw a name penciled there, asked me “Someone you knew?”

The name was of my sister-alto, MaryLee. In Pidgin Hawaiian she is my “teetah.”  She was my singing buddy, a strong (make that fabulous) alto, violinist and aficionado of the same cheap wines that I like.

Tears of loss and regret filled my eyes as I said “yeah…someone I knew.”

And then I smiled, knowing that we would meet again at the Saturday pot-luck this week, because though we have left that church, the friends we made, remain our friends.

Make new friends, and keep the old. Some are silver and some are gold.”