The man goes quiet, and the woman nods at him, approaching the organ once more. Sliding the pipe into place, the chord changes, and a wonder-filled hush blankets the church except for the beautiful new chord ringing throughout. Like a wave, it rolls over me, and I close my eyes, committing it to memory. The sound. The feeling. The acceptance of change and all it brings with it. “How long have you been planning this?” I whisper. “Since the moment I told you about the song.”
