A voice from the past

Yesterday afternoon I received a phone call.  I answered the phone and a familiar voice said, "Donna?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Do you know who this is?"

"Yes," I said.  "this is Terri." 

I have seen this lady briefly perhaps half a dozen times through the years, when we'd chance to meet at stores, or at the Lenten Friday night fish fries in Lexington.  The last time we saw one another was just a few months ago at the funeral of a mutual acquaintance.  We worked side by side on a conveyor at Whitaker Cable in the 70's.  We had quite a bit in common:  We both enjoyed going to our churches, and sometimes would visit one another's churches.  We both loved singing country and gospel music.  Back then, we'd sometimes get together to sing and play, just for the fun of it.  Sometimes others would gather with us and sing, playing guitars if they had them.  Good times.

She told me she'd been trying to clean house Saturday and found a cassette tape I had made of me singing songs I had written; she stumbled across it in the back of a drawer, having forgotten she even had it.  She put it in her cassette player, she said, and listened to it all day, over and over. 

My first thought was, "Is there really somebody alive who still has a cassette player?" 

She said she has a hard time singing any more, but she still likes to try.  She wants us to get together.  She wants to hear me sing again.

I told her Cliff is pretty good about being my chauffeur, so we could probably make that happen.  My intentions were that Cliff could sit on the sidelines with Terri's husband and listen to us and visit, but he wasn't interested in doing that.  I'm sure, however, that he'd take me to Lexington and leave me for a couple of hours so Terri and I can catch up with one another and sing a little.  My husband has told me several times that since he can't sing, he always feels like a third wheel just sitting around when everybody else is singing.

We have a cold day today, highs in the 50's with light rain.  I told one of my preachers yesterday that I sincerely hope I can put my jackets and coats away before my birthday comes;  he asked when that would be, and I told him July 7.  

Hey, the way the weather is going this year, you never know!

I'll take it though.  This kind of weather gives me an excuse to make soup; today I made potato soup.  Tomorrow, maybe chili, if we're not having morel mushrooms.  The grandson has plenty of those for us!