Monday, November 21, 2005


One never can tell when it's going to hit. When the throat will dry and it will be hard to swallow. When tears will rest softly just behind the eyelids. It can catch me completely unaware.

This weekend it happened twice. Both times connected to music and I like that and I think Dad would like that too - that memories of him are so often connected to music or laughter.

The first happened when I went to see a movie. (Yes, that's right, my first outing without my girl - to a movie! Aren't you impressed, bbb?) Walk the Line - the movie about Johnny Cash's life. Don't get me wrong, my father was not necessarily a big fan of Johnny Cash. And yet, some of those guitar strains and some of that twang is so connected with my youth. And there I sit, in a dark theatre thinking of my dad, missing him.

The second moment happened at church yesterday morning. One of the members of our band played the harmonica (or mouth organ as Dad referred to it) and again I thought of my dad and his drei, drei, drei, eint, twei, twei, twei as he would play or try to teach us to play Jesus, Lover of My Soul using the low German language.

And I missed him. And it made my heart glad. To have someone to miss.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Singing hymns often does it for me, too - I can hear my dad on one side of me, and your dad on the other, singing their hearts out in their own unique ways. Your dad would be bellowing with his eyes closed, and my dad would be singing tentative harmony, with his back straight and his head held high. Both worshipping, in their own ways.

9:34 AM  
Blogger Heather said...

Yeah, I can relate - harmonica and hymns and a little of that country twang that Dad so loved to mock. Does it to me every time.

Wish he were here to meet his newest descendent.

10:42 AM  

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