There are two kinds of people in our household, one that loves jazz music and one that loves the one that loves jazz music. Because I am the latter, I have found myself at concerts I normally would not attend. Recently, I was at a concert listening to Dave Koz play the Saxaphone. I was the one in the audience blubbering. No, not just shedding a tear or even crying, but blubbering - you know, the ugly cry. Wondering where these emotions had come from, I began to recall memories from my childhood.
My dad was diagnosed with Diabetes at the age of 13. Being sick and small in stature, he decided to take up the Saxaphone. His twin brother told me that this brought him much happiness as well as a way to pick up girls. Fast forward many years and dad's health is not good. Most of my childhood memories are of him in and out of the hospital. I remember many evenings where you could hear him playing the Sax in his room. I often would question why and assumed that it was either mom wouldn't let him play out in the living room or that he just wanted to be alone. As I listened to Dave Koz play his new hit entitled, "New Hope" (https://youtu.be/kvO53APyoAs) I had the epiphany that playing the Sax gave Dad hope. It brought him peace and comfort. It was his way of dealing with the struggles he was facing.
Fast forward a few more years. Dad's health is worse. He is unable to fight an infection in his hand and so they amputate his arm. Looking back, I realize that there was no more Saxaphone in the house. The beautiful sounds from the bedroom had stopped. So many thoughts were running through my head. How did dad cope? Where did dad find hope now? Why hadn't I noticed? Why was I so selfish to not see, or even hear, his need for love, understanding and hope?
In the middle of my blubbering, wondering if it was going to stop, I had another memory. Dad lying on the living room couch every Sunday afternoon listening to his favorite albums. Mom made him store his stereo equipment in the closet so the living room didn't look messy but that didn't stop him from enjoying the music. It was music that gave him hope and when he couldn't supply his own hope, he learned to rely on others to supply the hope he needed.
I realize that when struggles come my way, I rely on music to bring me hope as well. Many a restless night have turned to peace through my earbuds. It is the Dave Koz' of the world that provide a "New Hope" when the old one no longer works. To those that share their talents, goodness and kindness for the benefit of others - a big Thank You - you never know whose life you are making better, even if it for only a small moment.
I recently had someone tell me that they are looking forward to meeting their dad, on the other side, one day. I write this with sadness in my heart as I realize that I truly do not know my father very well and I too, look forward to "meeting" him again. And, on that day, I pray that he has his saxophone, and we can enjoy some music in between our conversations together. Who knows, he might even let me accompany him on the piano. What a joyful day that will be!
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