Dad’s Trumpet

My dad was genetically wired to be happy …

He always had a song in him … if you couldn’t hear it, it was just below the surface …

As he went about his day, he would often vocalize the melody of some spirited congregational hymn. He added runs and “grace notes” … mentally playing his trumpet along with the music …

He included the tonguing (you’ll only know what that is if you’ve played a brass or woodwind instrument) …

This morning, as I moved around the house, waking and feeding our cats, I did a little concert, ending with “In My Heart There Rings a Melody” …

It didn’t take me long to realize that, through the marvel of genetics, my father was visiting …

It’s always a pleasure to have him around …