I got a letter from Jeri this week, sending me some stuff she had picked up for me when she was in New Orleans. She was there for a jazz education conference. "It was a tremendous honor because my friend is kind of famous in the jazz world and her band is phenomenal." She then went on to talk about her jazz experiences in New Orleans, and explained she never loved jazz as much as her grandfather did (it was his whole life!). "I got to meet some people that grandpa had talked to me about, shared the stage with one of them. He would be proud."
Her letter made me think of my father. I don't often think kindly of my father, but the best part of my memories of him are of his music and how much he loved it. He tried to drum jazz into me, but I never liked it either. But I think of the things Jeri does in her life and her jazz experiences, and I think of the music Ned plays on his radio station and I wish he were here to experience it. When the kids were growing up, he told me he could never bond with them because their music was so different from his and then on the last time we visited him he learned that Jeri could play piano with him, with Ned on guitar and Tom on drum and was amazed that they could actually share music. I so wish he could see what they do now. It would be something that I did (raising them) that he would be proud of. He wasn't all that proud of me for much, but he'd definitely be proud of his grandkids.
At the same time, Facebook posted a picture of my mother the other day in one of those "X years ago" posts and I looked at her long and hard and realized how much I missed her. I loved visiting with her and talking with her on the phone regularly. I always called her on the anniversary of my sister's death, even after she no longer remember the date. But I loved just chatting with her about life. I don't really have much opportunity to do that these days in a house where people are pretty quiet.
I'm nearly 81 years old and I'm missing my parents!
I rarely have any interaction with Tom and, of course, Ned lives here. I love getting letters and phone calls (and visits) from Jeri. I'm pretty sure I never told her about calling my mother on the anniversary of my sister's death, but she always calls on the anniversary of David's and Paul's deaths and she calls both Walt and me regularly. She called me yesterday while she was cooking dinner and we had a nice facetime chat. I love that phones have progressed to the point where you no longer have to pay for long distance and now your long distance calls can be with picture as well so it's the next best thing to being together in real life.
I wonder what things will be like when Jeri is my age and having memories of communicating with me and with Walt.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
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