Wednesday, March 23


Spring has arrived, although you wouldn't know it by the stormy weather we've been having lately.

I spent part of the rainy weekend watching this and listening to this. As a result, I tuned to a classical music station on my commute Monday morning. I heard a familiar piece on the radio on what was the first full day of Spring. It made me think of Dad and I cried the whole way to work.

I have a crystal clear memory of my Dad sitting in the living room and playing his well worn record of Appalachian Spring for me when I was about 7 years old. He taught me how to listen to music with that piece of music. I remember listening intently to the entire piece with him as he occasionally asked "What does it sound like?" or "What do you hear?". I heard deer, birds and bunnies scampering across a meadow. I heard thunder. Perhaps most remarkably, I heard flowers standing up out of snow. "How does he [Copland] do that?" I wondered. It was and remains incredible to me. I can't hear that music without thinking of Dad. It was the first time I'd heard it since Dad died. It made me smile but also made me miss him like crazy. He loved Spring so much. As for classical music, I never knew him to sit at his desk without classical music quietly playing.

A few times a week I think to myself, God, did that really happen? Is Daddy really gone? It still feels so surreal to me. 'How can this be?" was the most frequent thought I had immediately following his death. The thought still sneaks up on me. I suppose it always will.

I don't mean to be downer, I just heard a lovely piece of music that reminded me of how wonderful my Dad was and I wanted to share.