My voice teacher died on December 2, 2008.
She was 90.
Her memorial service is tomorrow.
I can't not go, I have to go.
She loved to laugh, to eat and smile and
paint and talk and always, to sing.
She sang in the hospital, while
her organs shut down and
her daughter sat and held her hand.
At 90, she could still pop a high E
Still taught two days a week
Still mentored students around the world
by email, by phone
and me in her living room, every other week.
I miss her. My high E stinks.
I'm afraid I will disgrace myself tomorrow
bursting into loud tears
in the Old Church
but there is a hole in the world
where there used to be brightness
and colors
and music.
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