"Myrrh"

On my drive into work this morning, I randomly remembered something from about 10 years ago that was both funny and sad.  I get random recollections like this all the time, but I wanted to share this one.  Not that anyone else will understand why I found it so touching, but I thought it was interesting.

Growing up I sang in my Catholic church's choir.  I was the youngest member by far.  Most of the other members had children my age.  One lady was actually my babysitter when I was young.  But I loved every minute of it and looked forward to every practice and Sunday.  I am sure I got on their nerves, been a teenager and all, but they were always very welcoming to me.  And I learned how to hear alto parts, for which I am still eternally grateful!

Every year at Christmas we would sing at Midnight Mass.  It was a big deal.  From what I hear it still is at that church and I am determined to get my children there one year for a midnight mass to show them what I did every year on Christmas eve.  We generally sang the same basic carols with a few new ones thrown in every year.  One of the staple was "We Three Kings."  Each verse was sung by one of the men in the choir.  The verse of "myrrh" was ALWAYS sung by a man named Jack Bueler.  And every time that man sang myrrh it had so much vibrato that we laughed and called him Mr. Ed.  He would laugh about it too and I think he kept doing it like that every year because he knew it made us all smile.  He sounded great, don't get me wrong, I just think it was one of those inside jokes among choir members.

Once I was married I lived in Morehead, KY.  Shortly after my first Christmas as a Griffith, I got a call from my old choir director that Jack had passed away.  It had apparently happened a while before (I believe end of November) but he forgot to call me.  I was sad about it, but understood as it had been several years since I had been there to even visit.  But because it was the holidays I didn't really take the time to process that he had died.

Fast forward to the first Sunday in January, aka Epiphany Sunday.  The day we recognize as when the 3 kings arrived to see Jesus.  I was sitting at Morehead United Methodist Church with my husband.  It was pretty empty as students had not returned to campus from winter break, so it was just the 2 of us.  Generally my friends and I filled 2-3 pews each Sunday because we would all attend together.  Church started like normal, then the offering song started.  It was "We Three Kings."  Seeing the lyrics printed in the hymnal and hearing the organ begin to play the opening to the song brought Jack's death to the forefront of my mind.  I couldn't talk, breath, or hear anything going on around me.  All I could hear was my old church choir singing this with Jack.  I became aware of my surroundings and fought for a few verses to not make a scene.  We were still relatively "new" members to the church and I didn't want to cry in front of everyone, especially without my friends there to hide between.

Then we got to verse 4.

I heard Jack.  Although the organ was playing and the choir was singing along, all I could hear was the Mr. Ed "myrrrrrrrrrh" as the verse began.  I don't know what came first, the laughing or the crying, but I know I was doing both at the same time.  Both in sheer joy at the memory and in sadness of his passing.  I know the pastor saw me and looked very confused as to why a very old and quite frankly generic Christmas hymn would have such an effect on me.  My husband knew what was going on and just shook his head and smiled at me.  He heard Jack sing when we were dating and knew what I was thinking. 

Ever since, every time I hear the song around Christmas I smile at the "myrrh" verse.  I may not remember the full story behind it every time, but it makes me remember the more positive moments of my childhood.