The Leader of the Band

The leader of the band is tired

And his eyes are growing old

Dear Dad,

It’s Sunday evening. I have been thinking about you almost constantly all week, thinking about you way over there in Indianapolis, in the hospital again.

Again. I’ve lost count of how many times that makes in the past 12 months. Miraculously, you always seem to pull through it, every time. The combination of the power of all of our prayers, your positive attitude, and your very special sense of humor seems to work wonders.

But we all know that you are growing older, weaker, more tired with each passing day, with every hospital stay. Even though we keep our hopes up, we all know that none of us lives forever. We all know that we will someday have to go on, somehow, without you.

We will then most surely be looking forward to the day we will see each other again, in the life after this one.

There were so many things I wanted to say to you when Mark and I visited you and Mom in August. I tried to say them a couple of times, even tried to make a point to get you all to myself, alone out on your back deck. But I don’t think either one of us was completely ready. Instead, we were blessed with a few days of making a few more great memories together: fishing, playing dominoes, working a crossword puzzle, watching the hummingbirds and cardinals.

I’m ready to say those things to you now. I need to say those things to you now.

But his blood runs through my instrument

And his song is in my soul

You are a great dad. Fun, funny, wonderful father.

When I think about it, a lot of who and what I am today is due to your influence and example.


Sure, Mom was the more day-to-day “hands on” parent, and I know I mostly take after her when it comes to so many things, like organizing events and activities, doing all kinds of crafts, taking care of all the details, and sometimes agonizing over what other people think. The ratio of hours I talk to her to the hours I talk to you is probably something like 100 to 1. She’s the mirror I hold up to myself.

But you, you are the parent who gave me the music in my soul. It’s no accident that I eventually took up the dulcimer and taught myself to play it. It’s no accident that your grandson is the saxophone player that he is. That your granddaughter loves to sing. Your ability to pick up and play just about anything has always amazed me, and is the source of a great deal of wonderful childhood memories.


YOU are my sunshine.


My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy
To the leader of the band


You are the leader of the band. I think about you every time I hear this song on the radio, and about parts of my life being an “attempt” to imitate you. Working in my garden, filling my bird feeders, reading books about bees, listening to and singing along with old songs,…….with your quiet example, you taught me to enjoy all of these and other simple pleasures of life.


I also try to see the humor in every stressful situation, though I don’t always succeed like you do.


The leader of the band. You were the strong glue that held our family together. You worked hard, sometimes at two jobs, to make sure we all had everything we needed and then some. I will never know all the sacrifices you made for your wife and six kids. But please believe me, I do appreciate all you did to raise me.


He earned his love
Through discipline
A thundering, velvet hand
His gentle means of sculpting souls
Took me years to understand


When I was standing with you in your kitchen in August, you started talking about the times you used your belt on us kids. I could tell you were feeling bad about that, and I said something just to make light of it. Daddy, it’s OK! You and Mom raised us in an era when most people spanked their kids, and probably a lot more often than you did. The few times I do remember “meeting Charlie,” I also remember that I deserved it or drove you to it. Being a parent myself, I now completely understand those frustrations.


I thank you for the music
And your stories of the road
I thank you for the freedom
When it came my time to go --
I thank you for the kindness
And the times when you got tough
And, Papa, I don't think I
Said 'I love you' near enough --

The list of things I want to thank you for is long. Thank you for things like Christmas trees and presents magically appearing on Christmas morning. Thank you for Sunday cool-off rides and ice cream cones. Thank you for teaching me to fish. Thank you for games like Dead Mouse. Thank you for letting us “sneak” and stay up late watching scary movies with you. Thank you for all the popcorn, and for making us ice cream out of snow. Thank you for hikes in the woods, and for knowing so many things about animals, plants, folklore. Thank you for driving me to and from all my high school events, along with any of my friends who also needed a ride, even at the last minute. Thank you for looking so proud of me the day I graduated from college. Thank you for walking me down the aisle and putting my hand in Mark’s. Thank you for letting your grandchildren climb all over you.


Thank you for being the kind of Dad who lived up to the expectation that he would walk on his hands at every family reunion.


Thank you for being the kind of Dad whose creativity and resourcefulness provided our family’s famous “box on top of the car.”


Thank you for being the kind of Dad who rides a horse home from the mall.


Thank you for being the kind of Dad who jokes with his nurses about not shaving his beard because he’s had it since third grade. Who tells his doctors to make sure to tune the wires holding his sternum together to the key of G.


Thank you for being the kind of Dad who can make me laugh so hard I can’t see or breathe. Thank you for every single funny thing you’ve ever said, from “gweet” and “chout” to “beats hittin’ a dog.”


Thank you for showing all of us how to behave when faced with difficulty, when things get beyond our control. For reminding us that it’s OK to laugh, that it’s good to laugh, even when things don’t seem all that funny.


And, Papa, I don't think I
Said 'I love you' near enough –


I love you, Dad. With all my heart.


The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through
My instrument
And 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


I am the living legacy
To the leader of the band.

Love you,