Hello my dears, my mom on Friday gave me a box of my dad’s old records, a mix of classical music, big band and jazz. We spent the holiday weekend listening to them, drinking wine and reminiscing. The music reminded me again of how capacious my dad’s mind was. There were so many aspects of beauty he enjoyed — music, art, literature. Some of the best conversations I had with him concerned all three. It gave me a deep appreciation of the different cultures of the world, especially those of Europe. Before I even set foot in Italy or Austria or France,
I was already in love.
Listening this weekend to Strauss’ waltz, Vienna Woods, and Respighi’s Fountains of Rome, I was taken back to my New Mexico childhood, when I first realized how big and beautiful the world really was. Music carries us places that words can’t quite describe. It also evokes deep memories. I remember my father playing these records over and over on his old stereo.
As they pop and crackle now on my Crosley turntable, I’ve learned something about my father: With his overtures and waltzes, he had a flair for the dramatic and the romantic. There were no requiems in his collection, just grand happiness. Thinking of that now makes me happy.
I hope you’re having a lovely week. I’m excited to get back to posting here more often!