I remembered what I wanted to write.

I remembered what I wanted to write.

Last night in church, we sang “Honey in the Rock.” It amazes me sometimes how certain things bring up very vivid memories. I can never sing that song without remembering a friend (well, at the time I considered him a friend, but I’ve lost touch and, with how things were and such, I somehow doubt he’d have any interest whatsoever in being in touch now) named Bruce Garraway. There were several of us singing (maybe it was the choir? but a small choir) this song, and he had the tenor part. He sang it very well.

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