May 11, 2005 at 5:05 PM

On May 3, 2005 at exactly 9:41pm, my grandfather died. He was 85.

When he sent me off to learn the violin he would tell me how, as a young boy before the War, he would play hooky whenever it was time for music lessons.

As a result, he said, he was the only one among eight siblings who did not know how to play any instrument. He regretted it ever since, he would tell me, joking that all he knew to do was whistle.

Nevertheless, he had a very sharp ear. Even clear across the house, he could tell when I was playing off-key.

My appreciation for the violin deepened as I grew older, and I am thankful for my grandfather's gift of music.

I owe everything to him, even the very violin that I now use. He brought it home from a visit to the US in 1987, even though I was still too small to use it.

In his last years, when he listened to me play, he would often tell me how glad he was that he brought the violin home.

On the plane trip, he said, he carried the instrument in his hands and never let go of it --not even during his brief stopover in Japan (which he felt very uncomfortable about, having been a POW during the War).

He would laugh as he recalled this, saying that, perhaps, fellow travelers thought he was a violinist. If only they knew!, he would say, and laugh again.

Thank you, Papa.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on May 12, 2005 at 12:01 AM

Timothy, that was a beautiful and heartfelt tribute. You are fortunate to have had him as your grandfather.

From deborah mitchell
Posted on May 12, 2005 at 1:40 AM

In a way, you are his violin, Timothy, and he is still playing music through you.

From putch panis
Posted on May 12, 2005 at 1:38 AM

Timothy, your lolo will still be watching over you and will be listening to every note. So play with all your heart, knowing that you are the fulfillment of his own dreams.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on May 12, 2005 at 6:13 AM

You remind me of a song:
The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instrument
His song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy
To the leader of the band.

From Annie Madrazo
Posted on August 18, 2005 at 6:04 AM

A heartwarming story...It made me recall my lolo who died last year...he knows how to play the banjo and banduria...and there was a time when I played the banduria with him.... I know that nakakamiss ang lolo especially if you're close to each other and he's being like a second father to you...oh well, at least you know that your grandfather is happy for you and you're making him happy too by being a great and wonderful violinist(that I think you are!) =) God bless you on your journey. =)

Sincerely,
Annie :)

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May 11, 2005 at 5:05 PM

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