I met an acquaintance last week, who honoured me with a sad story from his childhood. I have weaved this tale from my imagination, so even though the details are fiction, the core of the story is true.
I can see him as he was back then, a bright seven-year-old holding the hand of his beloved father. Together they enter the concert hall, settle down amidst the plinging of instruments warming up. He likes it there in the darkness, hand in hand with the person he loves most.
The spotlight on stage picks out the young violinist as he becomes one with his instrument, his body an elongated note of music. The boy holding his father’s hand floats away on the music, carried on its shoulders to new heights of love and inspiration.
“I want to play like that for my father,” he says. For the next few years, he practises his love, playing it out with every stroke of the bow on string.
At last, after six years, he is ready for his own concert; his own spotlight.
I see him there – trembling on the stage – caressing the violin with his bow, creating beautiful notes that he leaves at this father’s proud feet as a gift.
The father’s love for his boy is reflected in his tears.
Soon after the boy gives his first concert, his father dies.
And the boy never picks up the violin again.
That young boy is now over 60 years old with children and grandchildren of his own. Yet he told me his story with love and tears in his eyes. Such is the power of love.
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This was so lovely and moving.
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This is so touching… and lovely of you to honour your acquaintance this way.
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What a beautiful and sad story. This man might have been a maestro had he continued to play in this father’s memory.
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What an incredibly beautiful and yet heartbreaking story! And yes, such a beautiful way to honor your acquaintance. Thank you for sharing this, Ladyfi. I do hope you have a beautiful week with laughter and joy for life.
Sylvia
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Very touching. My sincere thanks for sharing it in this forum. 🙂
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Very touching and wonderful story.
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I imagine his father in heaven also shedding tears for the loss of beautiful music. Lovely story. Thank you for sharing it with us.
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Beautifully told, Lady Fi. Please tell your dear friend it’s never too late to honor what his father would have surely wanted – to have the music live on through his son. I have a dear friend who is nearing 60 and she just started playing violin again after decades apart from it. She is enriching the world now and plays incredibly. I hope he pushes through the sorrow and gives his gift back to the world.
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A touching story indeed.
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What a heartbreaking story.
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Don’t know that I like this story – usually your parents will die before you, that’s the way it is. No reason not to carry on. Would his father want him to stop?
But interesting story.
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such poignancy and beauty….
am touched
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That is beautiful and sad, too. Although happy in a way because he had time to play for his father and show how much he loved him.
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what a lovely story. I feel as if I could have known them.
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Oh! This was unexpected. What a poignant and perfect short story. And it does tell us quite a lot about your world Lady Fi — what a good listener you are!
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What love between a son and his father!
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such a sad story.
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How sad!
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oh man…i hope that one day he does, and hears his fathers voice as he pulls the bow…
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Tears line my cheeks as I ponder the story behind the silent instrument.
My hope is that the man in your story not leave his violin silent, but will share his gift with his children and grandchildren, and they with theirs, and on it goes…
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You honored your friend with this story.
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Hi lady Fi, A wonderful story, I have one similar that someday I will blog about..I think perhaps it is something to do with the power of the bow..maybe tomorrow for my wistful wednesday post..thanks for sharing and more importantly thanks for listening both to the elderly gentleman and to me:)
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Such is the power…..
Aloha from Hawaii
Comfort Spiral
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congrats on the POTW from Hilary for this,
well deserved
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Powerful story Lady-Fi; I can see the images of the child and father clearly in my mind.
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A touching story, and, though I don’t think that would be my own response, I think I understand it. I am hearing Sonny Rollins playing “Without A Song” in the back of my mind.
Perhaps he was just left without a song.
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p.s. – congratulations on the potw!
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Beautiful Fi….but what an honor to his dead father to pick up and play again….
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That was very moving, and a pleasure to read. Congratulations on the post of the week mention, by the way.
You did your friend’s memory a good deed, by the way. Now his memory, that brought tears to his eyes brings tears to the eyes of others. In a way, it brings his dad back, doesn’t it?
All of us reading here are thinking of that little boy, and of someone he loved so much that the world needed less music in it, to honor his loss.
Can you think of a greater mark of love? So many things are done in memoriam. Benches are built, statues erected, something is created, or done, and that’s splendid.
But removing a tiny bit of beauty from the world as a way of honoring someone’s memory has a splendid beauty all its own. Who could fail to know how much that man loved his dad upon hearing that?
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I have a huge lump in my throat after reading that!! Beautiful, touching and sad story!!
C x
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Now I have tears in my eyes too!
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Pimento cheese is heavenly!
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Urgh. Too sad. At least the Dad saw him one time.
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Big sigh. What a touching story. Thank you.
And congratulations on your POTW mention from Hilary!
jj
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A nice but sad story Fi. Thanks for this.- dave
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lovely that the father got to hear him play.
Congratulations on your POTW mention from Hilary.
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