Sundays with Poppa
My father has been dead for nearly seven years. This has not stopped me from spending my Sunday mornings with him.
I inherited his iPod with thousands of his downloaded classical tunes still on it. I flip the power on (it perpetually sits on the iDock — -another hand-me-down) and suddenly Mozart is playing, one of his favorite players being Clara Haskell. Hours of beautiful music plays without my having to do anything. I make coffee and my breakfast.
I still feel close to him — -like the bonds have never been severed, which of course, the were not.
I sit at my laptop and tackle the Sunday crossword puzzle, sip my coffee and listen to our music.