Grandpa

Grandpa

My grandfather, Pasquale, was a stupendous musician.

As a musical child prodigy, who self-taught and mastered all string instruments including the piano and some woodwinds, he exceled at each as though he had practiced fastidiously for a lifetime.

These melodious God given gifts landed him in Carnegie Hall as a youth conducting the classical orchestra and symphony during the prosperous and roaring 1920’s.

Waving the maestro’s baton swiftly and decisively, he skillfully and impeccably coordinated and pinpointed sections and soloists, and transitioned tones, tempos, and overtures, guiding every instrumentalist through the four composed movements.

In accordance with his inbred talents, grandpa’s home was filled with an assortment of instruments back in the day, and he would often joyfully and longingly pluck a few strings here and there causing the harmonic vibrations to permeate the welcoming air reminiscent of his younger years whose inexorable traits still echoed in the ensuing decades.

We cannot mask or reject who we are as those intrinsic disregarded parts will continually resurrect and reach for the light of day like a sown seedling yearns and stretches to meet the fore calling sun.

It cannot be halted or altered.

Even though he likely considered it merely tinkering with them in his later years, it is a testament to the power of a sublime gift, which is as instinctual as breath itself and characteristic of the essence of being.

Just as a writer must write; a musician must make music, always.

It is not a choice, but rather an unswayable impulse.

Grandpa was my world, and I was his little girl.

His intelligence, kindness, patience, and generosity were unmatched.

I often wondered why I do not possess his magnificent ability to pass by the piano or the violin and whimsically formulate tasteful music or precisely and effortlessly play Mozart’s concerto as if it were second nature, instead of the random banging of keys that equated to a cacophony of gibberish.

Grandpa attempted to teach me the piano when I was in elementary school, and I did well with it, until he said, “Now I’m going to show you how to play with two hands.”

I knew I was out as it seemed way too mind boggling to simultaneously control two hands doing entirely different tasks.

I did read music well and my brain coordinated my one hand aptly, but I lacked what grandpa resonantly and resiliently retained: a burning innate desire to play it, hold it, strum it.

He could not help himself.

Two children, six grandchildren, and eleven great grandchildren later, we eagerly awaited the next bravissimo, who would be downloaded this unparalleled endowment.

In fairness, my cousin, Michael, did play the drums.

However, a more stunning and accurate depiction occurred with my daughter, Jessica, who gracefully and steadfastly played the violin since fourth grade with the same ease and exuberance as grandpa.

I envisioned grandpa delighted and thrilled that an heir produced euphonious music on his favorite instrument.

We cannot all be Bachs or Michelangelos, and that is alright.

God calls each of us to specific roles, and yes, He provides all the implicit competency required to shine at it.

One musical genius in the family is enough.

God has plans for each of us, and He only asks us to follow His cues and utilize our own God given gifts – not mimic the greatness of another.

Grandpa has likely been playing in Heaven for decades. What were you created to do?

~”For it is not you who speak, but the spirit of your father speaking through you,” Matthew 10:20. ~

HEaling Link® will meet Tuesday, September 5, 2023 @ 7:30pm via Zoom. For more information, please contact Jackie: [email protected] Isn't it time to get Linked?