It is well known that I have a big passion for music. I am positive that my passion is literally in my genes.
There are times I wonder what brought my parents together, they are so different. What art and sewing skills I have, I know came from my mother but with the exception of his major love of coffee – I didn’t get the coffee gene – in many ways I am my dad’s twin. I have a friend who doesn’t ask how’s my dad, she says, how’s your twin?
When you see us, there is no question whatsoever as to whom I belong.
A classically trained pianist, my dad began learning to play when he was eight years old. He hasn’t played in several years due to Alzheimer’s. I can deal with a lot of things, but his no longer playing disturbs me greatly.
ly When I was a child, the house was always filled with music – my dad playing and his teaching when I was really small. We watch Saturday morning cartoons with the sound down so he could teach.
He played piano and organ at a local church on Sundays and would practice during the week after spending an hour and a half after his full time job teaching piano.
The one thing I missed when I moved out of my parents home was hearing my dad play the piano.
One of his favourites was “Clair de Lune” and to me that piece by Claude Debussy will always make me think of my dad.
He never taught any of his children with all of the other children he taught. I asked him why one time and he said because it (the piano) was there and we could play any time as long as we didn’t just bang on it.
I learned many years later that all of those piano lessons is what put the food on the table.
I am the only girl of three children…and yes, I am a daddy’s girl! Step-sisters and sisters-in-law joined the family over the years; but I have always been daddy’s only girl.
I used to get upset when I was a kid because it seemed like no one knew my name, I was this brother’s sister or that brother’s sister and Van’s (dad) daughter. He would always introduce me to people as “my daughter”. Daddy’s girl!
We live across the country from each other but when he turned 80, the family out there wanted a big party. I had not seen my dad in several years and flew out for the party. I realized after I got home that the whole week I was there, dad never said no. None of us drive and I wanted to take some photos of a pacific sunset. He spent an hour trying to figure out who he could call to take us to the beach so I could get some photos. It was a bit cloudy but I got some really nice shots.
The coffee gene – my dad was literally weaned on coffee. He never put milk in his coffee and over the years the two sugars became one sugar and one “fake” sugar. But the thing that always shocked me is that no matter how hot the coffee was, it was never hot enough for my dad. When he would go out for breakfast, he would tell the server to put his coffee in the microwave to heat it up!
When we were kids, my brother and I named him asbestos mouth!