My ninety-two year old husband. Little writing so you can afford your time with him. He and this piano player have never seen each other until this night. The night my family and community had dinner together before Clyde’s memorial service. It’s been years since he has had a song “workout.” As the speaker said, “He still has some pipes on him.” Just kiddies making the noise in the background. Me, too, probably. 😀
I want to pay tribute to wonderful people I have known, the wonderful country in which I live, the communities in which I have lived, the churches who have claimed me as their own, the God who sends shivers down my back when I really give him a portion of my time—well, maybe not shivers but tears flow easily in some of those most priceless times.
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Wow!
😀 😀
Amazing!
😀 😀
Beautiful!
😀 😀
wow—we might need to put Sammy on the big stage 🙂
I’m glad you’ve had both bitter and much sweet this past week or so—still holding you in my heart and prayers Oneta
Thanks for the sweet words and the prayers. I am okay.
I know you are cause I know you!!! 🥰
well done, Sammy. Thank you for posting.
😀 😀
Absolutely wonderful! 🙂
As that man said, “He sure has the pipes.” 😀 Thanks for letting me know you enjoyed this.
What a treasure. I can only imagine how many times he has beautifully serenaded you, all these many years together.
Well he hasn’t always put in that much steam, but there have been sweet times. I do love to hear him.