A Voice is Missing

   Last night, the choir sang at services. There were not many present. The evening was billed as a
Town Meeting on Israel." Apparently, people are feeling rather queasy about that subject right now. Of course, I have long felt that way. Although I was almost born in Israel, and my parents met and married there right before the original War of Independence, I always knew that the land people regarded as uninhabited was far from being so at that time.
  Be that as it may, the set went well. These were two old favorites, songs I have been singing with the choir for many years. But something sounded different... David was missing in the bass section.
  We have long known that David has Alzheimer. It was hard to miss, even though he would always remember there was a performance, arriving attired immaculately in suit and tie, no hair out of place. For too long, he even drove himself, though he could barely remember his own name. And he never forgot a word of the music we sang either. But his kind elbowing was beginning to transform into something else. The disease was changing him, and his wife, at age 90, could no longer manage a man who was still physically quite strong, though mentally reduced.
  Now he has moved into an assisted living place for people with Alzheimer and dementia. We hear he is adjusting fine, but we can't visit him just yet, not for a while.
  I know the choir will never sound quite the same to me without his cheerful, sweet voice.