A year ago today I lost someone extremely special to me: my dad.
I owe so much to him, including a good portion of my love of music. I grew up listening to him playing Schumann, Chopin, Brahms, Liszt, Bach, and even jazz, as he played in dance bands in the 50s to help pay for college. I remember playing the piano with him from a very early age (Tcherepnin’s duets from “Exploring the piano”), and he wrote down a piece I wrote about a bee when I was three. I also remember playing with matchbox cars in empty churches while he practiced the organ, turning pages during choir rehearsals, tasting his gourmet cooking, and watching lightening storms on the horizon from the back patio. I remember him playing the intermezzo from Schumann’s Faschingswank aus Wien flawlessly from memory when guests asked to hear something. I remember his support, generosity, and kindness. While it’s an incomplete picture (he loved listening to spirited debates and liked to keep up with news/politics, for one), I’ve always said my dad’s favorite things were family, food, and music.
It couldn’t have been easy to support a family as a piano teacher and musician, and some things didn’t go the way he had originally planned. That said, I’m so proud of all he was, and all that lives on through those whose lives he touched.
I took a picture of the music rack on his piano on the day he died, and for numerous reasons did not look at what piece it was until now. The last piece he ever played was the Brahms B♭ minor Intermezzo, Op. 117, No. 2, which is — to me — beautiful, sad, and hopeful.
My dad is loved and missed, and I’m so grateful for the time I had with him.
P.S. While I don’t really know what the song is about specifically, “Someone Great” by LCD Soundsystem moved me when I first heard it about a year ago, and has been part of the ongoing soundtrack in my head as my emotions have evolved. In honor of where at least half of my music geek genes came from, I’ll add that it is in E♭ mixolydian mode.