My oldest son is practicing Amazing Grace on his violin. 

The music floats to me, standing in the kitchen, from the living room.

He’s playing it on a repeating loop this morning at home, before he plays it in a few hours time at his great grandma’s funeral. 

My father brought the music over on Sunday afternoon and they worked on it together. 

I get a lump in my throat every time I hear it. 

Every time. 

Sometimes tears leak out. 

I can’t help it. 

It’s the music. 

It’s the words. 

It’s everything. 

Amazing Grace. 

God’s Grace. 

We’re so undeserving. 

But He gave it anyway. 

And the song begins playing again, as if on cue.

© 2011 Turquoise Tangles