Brass

Until my late teen years, I had a pretty rocky relationship with my Dad.

The combination of my rebellious nature and his Irish temper was a recipe for disaster! During my teen years, Dad and I went round and round. After doing a little growing up, and coming to Christ in my early twenties, we patched up our relationship, and things were fine after that. Ah, what a difference a few years can make!

Anyhow, I saw a lot of sides of my Dad before he passed away from Lou Gehrig's disease in 1999. There was the soccer game Dad, smoking a cigar and shouting, shall we say, inspirational suggestions to David and I from the sidelines. There was the comedian Dad, making funny faces into the camera when Mom wanted a serious picture, and "playing the martyr" when something little went wrong. And there was the tired-from-work Dad, relaxing on a couch with the paper and nodding off just as the Redskins game got to the good part. Mostly, though, Dad was a pretty reserved man, holding his thoughts and feelings fairly close, and not revealing much.

But my Mom tells a story of a different side of my Dad, a side I never really saw but am intrigued by. According to her, they used to go see the symphony frequently when they were dating in D.C. in the early 1960's. She said on one particular occasion, as the orchestra played a particularly moving passage, she looked over and saw a tear rolling down Dad's cheek. She said he always had a great love for music, and she never really realized how deep it was until that day at the concert.

Just like Dad, I have always been moved by powerful music. Tonight, Cathy and I went to a King's Brass concert in Simpsonville, and I was reminded of how great a gift we have in music. There is something glorious about the sound of a large pipe organ, accompanied by trained blasts of brass instruments, and topped off by a hundred voices singing a classic hymn in unison before God, that makes me think this is what we'll be hearing in heaven! Absolutely awesome. Ear candy, to be sure.

Dad has gone on, but every so often, as a rare musical moment makes my eyes well up, I feel like I know him a little better.