It was a Daddy Daughter Dance. Unfortunately for my son, he had to work out of town. Fortunately for me, I was the second-string back up for Grace, who is 6 years old, and in first grade.
The school dance was for elementary girls, grades one through six, at our local university Grand Ballroom. My only concern was that it was from 6 to 9 PM. Having two left feet and the coordination of a one-legged giraffe, how in the world could I fake dancing that long?! In the end, it didn’t matter.
What did matter was that my granddaughter had a good time. She was dressed in a light blue dress covered with tulle. (For the ladies, aren’t you impressed I know what “tulle” is, and for us guys, it’s said “tool”, but not spelled that way, so it’s not a skirt covered in crescent wrenches like I thought.)
Continue reading A Graceful Dance
Sometimes I just sit in my home “office” staring at my wall of collected musical instruments. I don’t play any of them. I just like them.
It seems nostalgic, yet, real.
It started with a casual garage sale purchase, but now I want a mural of music making contraptions. Granted, most are non-functioning wall hangers, but when I stare at them, I wonder, imagining the sound of each instrument as deaf music flows to hearing ears.
Whether a solo, or a symphony of organized noise produced by metal, wood and strings, sometimes I hear it. Continue reading Hear the Music
I went to a football game, alone. It was second half of our local 13,000 student Stephen F. Austin State University football game. It was Parent’s Weekend, so literally half the people left after the 2nd quarter.
It was a stifling hot Texas evening, so I sat at the top of the stadium where there was virtually no one, but the team flags blew in the breeze. That breeze was nice!
I participated, without involvement. Was part of the crowd, yet not crowded. With people, but all by myself.
Plus, high in the stands you can see plays develop.
Perfect! Continue reading I Went to a Football Game
In college I worked one summer at a funeral home. Morbid? Maybe, but I wanted to be around the death process to understand, not fear it.
Sometimes though things, places, events — they change you, change the way you think, change the way you see and feel life. That summer changed me, one night in particular.
I had two jobs that college summer. As soon as I finished my maintenance job, I’d shower, put on my suit and rush to the 2nd job at the funeral home.
It was a visitation that night, just one body, with few visitors expected. The funeral home owner told me he and his family were leaving town for a short trip, threw me the keys and told me to lock up after everyone left that night.
No one was there, so I went into the state room and was shocked to see the tiny casket. Inside was a beautiful, eight month old baby girl. Continue reading Brahm’s Lullaby