Ch. 1: Two Families

The Roles We Play, a Serial Memoir

I can still hear them singing in surround sound in my memory. Across the aisle from where I sat, Marjorie’s thunderous voice bellowed out of her seemingly frail frame. A widowed woman of twenty years following thirty years of marriage, Marjorie had a vibrato and spirit that trembled with faith and forte. In front of her sat May, whose operatic voice slid up and down like a siren on its way to securing each note.

Carrying the undesignated alto section were Julie and her daughters, Kristy and Cora, who made it their mission on Sunday mornings to find the hymn’s harmonies. I sat directly behind Julie-and-company with my own extended family: Gran, Grandad, Uncle Eddie, Aunt Becky, my great-great-aunt, uncle, and their family, Mom, Dad, and my three younger sisters.

John, May’s husband would often conduct us in worship. “Turn in your hymnals to page 314,” he’d say, and together, ushered in by the piano and organ, my church family and I would join in on his cue.

I’m so glad I’m a part of the family of God,
I’ve been washed in the fountain and cleansed by His blood!
Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,
For I’m part of the family, the family of God!

Testing out my own voice, I vacillated between trying to sound like Aunt Becky, whose voice was soft and sweet, and Kristy and Cora, whose voices were loud and self-assured.

This was my church family, and theirs were just a few of the voices I internalized growing up.

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