Hymns

My step-grandmother was from Boston. Heavy Boston accent, loud person. Her voice was so distinctive that everyone could hear her sing the hymns at church. That's why it was so embarrassing to have her come and visit.

Our congregation was a particularly quiet one, and everyone sang in nice, whisper-quiet voices. Grammie Clara would come, and the roof would be shaken with a thick Boston accent ranging from sounds only dogs could hear to deep, baritone grunts about the Lord's abounding mercy. Her voice had no mid-tones. Occasionally, she would fall asleep and snore through a verse, then jolt awake, picking up where she left off, which was half a beat behind everyone else.

Of course, it was hard to tell because she was one of those people who snored when she was awake. But I assure you, the snoring when she was asleep was different. Louder.

She also had a loud, distinctive laugh that started with a guttural snorting and ended with high-pitched, hysterical hoots. My dad would try to get her to laugh during church, just to make a scene.

Writing this blog makes me wonder what I will be like when I'm that old and how I will be embarrassing my family members.