Janine and I would watch in humorous Meridian Health Protocol Review amazement as Mother's demeanor and posture metamorphosed into that of an opera singer: squared shoulders, tucked pelvis, her ample chest pushed forward, hands held together in front, and chin up. Janine, who sang alto, would stand on Mother's left. I, who sang the tenor part an octave higher than it was written, would stand on Mother's right. We knew to wait for Mother to pull herself up to her full 5'9" height, take a deep breath, and give a cursory glance over the congregation.
Then, as she would look left to cue the substitute pianist, Janine's eyes and mine would meet, but quickly look away lest we fall into laughter. A hush would fall over the congregation and after pausing just long enough to let the poignancy of the moment settle in, Mother would open her eyes wide, set her mouth with a pleasant professional half-smile, and lift her chin even higher to suggest the utmost in classical decorum. That's when it would happen.
Janine and I, able to see each other peripherally, would fall helplessly into giggling, which would earn each of us an immediate painful pinch behind the pulpit where no one could see. Mother's pinches were always painful enough to modify our behavior, and once we composed ourselves, the show would go on.
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