My grandmother had an old church hymnal with the cover coming loose and her name written inside in blue ink. She could not sing very well, honestly, but she sang anyway. Loud enough that all of us kids could hear her two rows back.
After she died, that hymnal was one of the things nobody fought over, which is funny because now it is the thing I wish I had asked for sooner. My cousin found it in a box and mailed it to me last year.
There were little marks next to her favorite songs. Some pages had tear stains, or maybe just water, I don’t know. But I know she held that book through funerals, baptisms, bad years, and Sundays when she was probably tired.
This hex is for her, for the faith she gave our family, and for the voice I can still hear even though she has been gone a long time.