Driving home yesterday I popped in a CD Dad had made for us. It was his workout music. I’ve used it often for my workouts. It’s a rhythmic compilation that keeps us awake on long trips, too.
As I listened to Gene Harris, I saw Dad playing along, brushes swishing gently on his snare in perfect time, smiling the peace inside of him. I had to stop the music.
I am so thankful to Dad for instilling in me a never-ending love of jazz; which is why it’s going to be hard to listen to our old favorites. Like Duke Ellington that’s playing in my office at this moment.
Miss you, Daddy. Very much.
|Dad playing at our famous coffee shop The Hard Bean Cafe in Grandview, 2008.|
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