How about a sixth year: What would you say to your Dad today?

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This year I would speak to my Dad on behalf of my brother, Alan, who died this year. My little brother was a casualty of divorce. Young enough to know he had a dad, not old enough to really get to know him.

He was absolutely your son. You know it. He was just like you, looked like you, drank like you and dreamt like you did. Of the three of us he was the one that needed you. You let him down. I can forgive you for that now. He's gone. Like you, he made his choices.

This year I would say to my Dad, thank you for the music. When Alan died my mom sent me the family melodeon.

It was my Grandfather's. My Dad's Dad. My memories of him are few; most of them have the melodeon in them. Christmas and birthdays and Gramma's house, full of music and good food and silliness. Great memories. I also this year heard my Grandma 'Lizbeth's coming-to-America story in her own voice on a tape my cousin sent. My Dad's Mom. Her poem about the old country made me cry.

Thank you for the music, Daddy. I dedicate the next few years of musical growth to you as I learn to play the melodeon so I can teach my grandkids how to play it.

See you soon,

Danny

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