These is something about music. It has got to connect with our brains on a special level. It stirs emotions, soothes us, excites us. It also seems to stay fixed in some part of our brain so that even my dad can remember the old songs and play them with amazing accuracy from memory.
I guess our family was musical. We all played something. At least we tried. My efforts were just the slowest. My sisters and brother all outshone me on the piano. My younger two sisters both played the violin very well. I gave up on piano when I was in grade 8. Violin, my dad tried briefly to teach me. Guitar was attempted when I was in university. I think my fingers were too short or too slow, or something. The recorder seems to be just right for me.
Today Sharon and I went to the hospital to visit dad. This time we brought his violin. I brought my recorder. Sharon brought her flute. We went down to the hospital chapel and spent about half an hour playing some of the old hymns that dad will maybe never forget. It was so good.