A Life Well-Lived, Part K, L, M

Reflections through the alphabet in memory of my Dad. I can hear my Dad's laugh as I write this, hear the banter around the table, and feel him sitting beside me at Duke Chapel for a concert. [You can follow the entire series beginning here.]

K – KIDS. What a chest full of memories I have of my Dad and kids. The energy and sometimes chaos that accompanies having many kids around always seemed to appeal to him. In the evenings when he was home and we were young, he often played “mush-pile” where he’d lay face down on the floor and all of the kids would pile on top.

He loved having all the grandchildren around too. 

Dad and Mom dished out hundreds of meals and provided interesting, if not unusual activities, particularly outdoors. Part of the provision was just having a large place for kids to spread their wings; out in the barn, fishing in the pond, ice skating on the other pond, building forts in the back pasture. 

With twenty plus grandchildren and more recently, great-grandchildren, kids were a welcomed and full part of Dad’s life. Whether group work, or a fun activity, like the grandkids riding his collection of old bicycles up and down the lane, Dad and Mom always had things for kids to do at their home. 

Grandchildren at Grandpa's House

Thank you, Lord, that my Dad had such  a large heart toward children and made each one feel loved and special. 

L – LAUGHTER. My Dad got his sense of humor from his Dad, and a good clean joke was something he enjoyed sharing. Laughter was deep in the walls of all his homes, flung there from the laughing presence of not just immediate family, but extended family, many friends, neighbors, and friends of his children. Dad understood that a smile or a laugh were simple, free, and a good and necessary part of everyday life. And he could laugh at himself too. Holding life with this balance of serious purpose and gentle laughter were gifts he gave me. 

In the photo below, we were playing a game, WIN LOSE OR DRAW. When it was Dad's turn to draw something (his team had to guess what it was), I still remember the howls of laughter as he drew these little stick figures and we guessed all kinds of wild scenes except the one he was drawing. And he could laugh at himself along with the rest of us. 

Thank you, Lord, that laughter was as natural to my Dad as breathing and that he gave that gift of merriment as a legacy to all his family. 

 

A Family Game with Adult Children, Grandchildren, and Neighbor

M – MUSIC. My Dad was not a musician himself. Yet he enjoyed music at some of the highest levels over the years. Going through the collection of CD’s in my parents’ home after Dad died, I was fascinated to see the extent of my parent's musical interest. Everything from yodeling to Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony. The latter Dad and Mom had heard at the Kennedy Center when they visited us in Virginia in 2005. Just last December, Dad sat beside me at Duke Chapel and heard the entire Messiah sung so rapturously in that incredible space.

In March of this year, Dad traveled 700 miles one way to hear the music for Holy Week and Easter at my church and other places in the Raleigh area. He was particularly moved by the Good Friday service at Resurrection Lutheran Church in Cary, a church where I had served in the prior decade.

In contrast, yodeling also held a special place in my parents' hearts; a young granddaughter from Colorado, who sings folk music so beautifully, also is an awesome yodeler. How they loved to hear her sing! When she visited them in the fall of 2011, Dad and Mom took her on an impromptu tour of several area nursing homes where she began playing guitar and singing in the gathering area, and soon a crowd of hungry-to-hear folk gathered and enjoy a brief concert. Her last time to sing for Grandpa was beside his bed at home last month. "Thank you Heidi. That was beautiful."

My Dad’s funeral was held at the Baptist church where he and Mom had been members all their married life. I played the grand piano there for his funeral, accompanying the grandchildren who sang, and playing a solo. That was deeply meaningful to me on several levels; first, because my Dad had heard me play the same solo I shared on numerous occasions and was one of his favorite pieces in my sacred repertoire. 

Secondly, Dad went with the music director, Jim Emory, when the new church facility was built to pick up this piano in downtown Chicago. He was always so proud that he had helped to get this fine instrument and place it in that sanctuary. How special it was to play that instrument for him one last time.

 

Dad at the Messiah (sorry about the photo quality)

The view from our seat for Handel's MESSIAH, December 2012

Thank you, Lord, that my Dad loved music, that it enriched his life so much, and that he introduced me to great music and the possibility of a career in music at a young age. 

MUSIC LINKS

Fanfare for the Common Man - James Levine, conducting The New York Philharmonic. When I first moved to Raleigh, NC, Dad and Mom visited in October. We attended a homecoming concert at Duke Chapel where we heard this piece played. (If you've been to Duke Chapel, imagine that opening timpani flourish echoing in that space!) That was the first of many concerts we attended together at Duke when Dad was visiting from Indiana. My Dad was a common man, but the fanfare that accompanied his entrance to heaven must have been breathtakingly beautiful.

Variations on the Doxology – played for my Dad one last time at his funeral. It is a fitting tribute to one who said in his last days, “God has been so good to me.” (i.e. praise God from whom all blessings flow…). You can download an audio file of this solo here.

Continue this series here.