"Sing 'River', Nana"

When I was a little girl, so the stories are told, I had a propensity of rebranding things using my own names or terms.  Bags of flour would be "up-spilled".  I loved a good "Ham-Beef" or "Choppy American Soo" for supper.  I stumped my parents for weeks asking them to sing the song, "My Heart is Going Up and Down", which translates into "I'm Inright, Outright, Upright, Downright Happy All the Time."  And when we would travel in the car, especially on long trips, I would ask Nana to sing "River." 

I don't know if Nana could really sing.  I suspect she probably could but by the time I was old enough to take notice of people's singing voices, Nana was well into her 70's and by her own admission, her voice was rather worse for the wear. The last time I remember Nana singing was the summer of 2010.  Nana was listening as Beth and I were practicing a duet to sing in a church service.  Nana loved listening to music; every time I finished practising the piano (which was at her house) she would always thank me for the "concert".  Anyhow, Beth and I kept on singing for Nana after we had finished our practicing.  We sang many of the old hymns, and Nana joined in on a few lines in most of them.  We didn't sing "River", though.  I wish we had.

As of today, October 2nd, Nana has been in Heaven for six months.  There are not enough words in the English languge to express how much love and miss her, or how much I look foward to seeing her again.  Maybe, if we have a Favourites Sing Time in Heaven, I will say, "Sing 'River' Nana"....and I will sing with her.

Shall We Gather at The River

Shall we gather at the river

Where bright angel feet have trod,

With its crystal tide forever

Flowing by the throne of God?

On the margin of the river,

Washing up its silver spray,

We will talk and worship ever,

All the happy golden day.

Ere we reach the shining river,

Lay we every burden down;

Grace our spirits will deliver,

And provide a robe and crown.

At the smiling of the river,

Mirror of the Savior’s face,

Saints, whom death will never sever,

Lift their songs of saving grace.

Soon we’ll reach the silver river,

Soon our pilgrimage will cease;

Soon our happy hearts will quiver

With the melody of peace.

Yes, we’ll gather at the river,

The beautiful, the beautiful river;

Gather with the saints at the river

That flows by the throne of God.