My family is a very musical family and my dad was no different. He used to sing in a quartet. My grandpa was a beautiful tenor. And I can hold a note or two. My dad was the pastor of a very small church. You know, the kind of church where the pastor's family did everything. Well, that meant that we were in charge of the music, too. I would sing, my dad would play the guitar, and my sister would play the piano. My dad was notorious for letting me know the morning of service what we were going to sing. This particular morning was special. We were celebrating the anniversary of another pastor's ministry. I was sitting in the pew just chillin'. My dad looks at me and motions that he wants me up there with him. So, I go up there and stand by him and he whispers in my ear "let's sing Heaven Came Down." I said yes because he was my dad but I was a little intimidated. There were a lot of people there.
We sang.
We sounded so good together.
I miss us singing. I miss hearing his voice. I miss everything about him. Even his laziness. I would love to go make him a sandwich right now. I know that sounds random and kind of stupid but I would do it in a heartbeat if it meant that I got to see him. I loved him dearly. Can't wait to see him again.
We sang.
We sounded so good together.
I miss us singing. I miss hearing his voice. I miss everything about him. Even his laziness. I would love to go make him a sandwich right now. I know that sounds random and kind of stupid but I would do it in a heartbeat if it meant that I got to see him. I loved him dearly. Can't wait to see him again.
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