Sometimes it's hard being in the place where you grew up.
Subbed band at Dad's old school today.
The funeral program was up on the teacher's bulletin board. She was a student of his.
There's still one of his old posters up on the wall, with his calligraphy on it.
I remember being five and the texture of the sound-absorbent walls was fascinating and the risers were far too big for my little legs to handle.
The principal of the school where I subbed elementary music this morning was also a student of Dad's. He thought my dad was great.
I thought so, too.
The funeral program was up on the teacher's bulletin board. She was a student of his.
There's still one of his old posters up on the wall, with his calligraphy on it.
I remember being five and the texture of the sound-absorbent walls was fascinating and the risers were far too big for my little legs to handle.
The principal of the school where I subbed elementary music this morning was also a student of Dad's. He thought my dad was great.
I thought so, too.