Feelings

Of course, I am a dutiful daughter, so I took my mom to church on Easter Sunday. Mom really wanted to go to church on Easter. Brother lives 1 hour away. He said he was going to be involved in the service. So my mother got up early and she and I made the drive to his church. We’d see my brother and get the Easter service out of the way.  Two birds with one stone, so to speak.

My brother was a pastor for a while. He is not any longer, but I know that he tries to help out when he can at the church he attends. He has been a member of the choir, has done ushering, etc.

Mom and I arrived early and sat in the nearly empty church so that she could get settled and we could stash her walker in an unobtrusive spot before the service started. We watched as the church filled to overcapacity. While waiting for the service to begin, I read the program. My brother was listed as singing….by himself. Hmmmm-he didn’t mention that part.

The service goes along; it’s a Lutheran church and my mom wanted to stand when needed, which means that I am hauling her to her feet each time by the seat of her pants. Literally.  She struggles to sit back down, because the pews don’t have arms and it is very low for her. But I am getting through all of it. I don’t attend church, and the service just reminded of why that is. If you have never attended a Lutheran service, I will just say that they stand and then sit. Repeatedly.

Then my brother is next on the program. I didn’t recognize the song. But as I sat there next to my mom, the tears started. Yes, they seemed to be my tears. My eyes began to fill with tears. In fact, as he sang, I began to cry openly. I was holding back sobs. My nose started to run, I could not see for the tears in my eyes. They were spilling over my cheeks and dripping into my lap. I had no tissues (why would I have expected to need those?) but dug through my purse in case I had one stuffed in there somewhere.

My mother was oblivious.

My brother never looked up from his music, so he didn’t see me.

Wow! What was that all about? It is totally out of character for me. I rarely cry in private, and only a few times have I cried in public.

From everything I have been able to reconstruct in my mind, it was all related to my sister. My sister was an amazing singer. She sang in temple, she sang in choirs, operas, and taught voice lessons. She may have died over 2 years ago, but I felt her presence with me with me while our “little”  brother was singing at a jam-packed Easter service.

My brother has done some singing here and there, some roles in musical theater, and in choirs. But never like this as far as I know. He has never had voice lessons. He is a very large man, and very self-conscious. He is not comfortable in himself, he has struggled with depression for many years. And yet, there he was-doing a fine job singing in front of all of these people.

Just thinking about it and telling others about my reaction brings the sting of tears to my eyes, even now. But yesterday, I was a mess. Luckily, I finally found a stub of a tissue in the pocket of my jacket.

I think the unexpected nature of it, combined with the thoughts of my sister, and my pride in my brother all coalesced into a swelling of emotion that just had to escape from me in some way.

Other than the trails of black mascara running down my cheeks, my red eyes and snuffling into a scrap of tissue, I am glad that I didn’t make a spectacle of myself!

And I won’t be attending church again any time soon.

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