My mum had a request last week. She asked if we could come to her in the hospital after the Christmas service in our church and sing her couple of Christmas songs. We said, Of course, mum, we'll come. But deep down I knew I wouldn't have emotional or mental strength for it, I knew I would just break down after the first bar of Silent Night. Well, as you know, she didn't live to see the Christmas Eve. So there was no singing needed.

But the whole thing kept bugging me yesterday. So in the evening when we were getting ready for the first Christmas service without my mum conducting the choir and sitting next to my dad, I said to him, Dad, I think we should still go to the hospital and sing. I think we should still try to keep the promise we made her. We can't sing to her but we can sing to the nurses who took care of her. Dad agreed, everyone else agreed. So after the Christmas service (which really turned into a memorial service; I've never seen a church crying for anyone like Pärnu church is crying for my mum) we rushed to the hospital. We went up to the 6th floor and told the nurses why we were there, they were very surprised but they invited us to the common room and invited other patients to come, too. And you wouldn't believe, WE SANG. We sang the Christmas songs, in four part harmony, a capella. Including Silent Night. And it felt just amazing. First, because we had managed to keep the promise, and second, because I know it would have brought a big smile on her face. She would have been proud of us.

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It's good to be together. We cry and we laugh and we sit in silence, we're shocked and confused and terribly sad, but we're strong together. We're stronger than I thought we could be.