My father's daughter

November is the month my dad comes to mind most often.  It is the month that he was born, the month that he died and the month when my thoughts turn to family and tradition.  This year the memories have been aided by the discovery of the Red Hot Chili Pipers and the wonderful bagpipe/rock combination.  I drove several hours in the sun a few days ago, thinking of my dad and rocking away to the music, wondering if I should take up the bagpipes...wondering if my dad would approve...wondering if once upon a time, many generations ago, those writing music for bagpipes ever dreamed such a combination was possible.  The piano, the bass, some wicked drum solos, a little lead guitar and the bagpipes adding color and life and unifying melody.  I wonder if the same is true for people.  I wonder if the same truths to a different rhythm, one we haven't thought of yet, is the blessing given as the mantle is passed generation to generation.

My dad was a wordsmith.  He was witty and wise.  His humor was one of his greatest gifts and when he had been particularly witty, he so enjoyed his own humor that for days he chuckled over it.  I got that gift from him!  I have often tickled myself and had a hard time keeping the amusement to myself.  Quiet often I become giggly in all the wrong places, but it has been the source of tremendous joy.  What a lovely legacy to leave for me.  I hope it has been passed down to one of my children, or surely to one of theirs. 

My dad was a musician.  The last week I spent with him, just a few days prior to his death, he played for me some of his favorite music.  He played it for himself mostly, often in the night I would hear the music and know he was filling the quiet and the darkness with comfort and 'nourishment' for his soul.  He would describe each piece or perhaps collection of pieces, tell me what they meant to him, the history of the piece or the composer.  Haendel's Watermusic is one of the places I still meet with my dad, since this was one of gifts he shared with me this week.  Music is one of the best means of grace for me and has been long before I knew what a means of grace was.  I am often transported to other places in music and in that moment the current reality means little,  another lovely legacy that I have seen in my own sons.  Last Christmas it came full circle for me when my son sang a solo in the Christmas in the Wires concert.  As I listened to him sing  I was fill with great pride and real delight, and I knew that my father was sharing the moment with me.  I wonder today at the previous generations present in the heavenly host , do they gather when the gift is shared again and celebrate with joy?

My dad was a Scotsman.  He was proud of his Scottish heritage and often lost himself in its history and in the family genealogy of those who have gone before.  My introduction to bagpipes came from the Highland Games in Ligonier, Pennsylvania. We would take our lawn chairs, listen to the bagpipe competitions and the grand march when they would all take the field together.  I cried every year, it so moved me to hear them all play together.  Tears come today as I remember the feeling, on the edge of the fairgrounds when the music would start, when my heart will swell and be so full, it overflowed.  They come  now as I remember the very cold bagpiper, playing at the cemetery in the snow, as we laid my father to rest for the last time in the same place so many of his ancestors were buried.    I am grateful for the gift of a genealogy too.  I enjoy my Scottish roots and I am grateful that my parents lived in such a time when remembering who we are and where we came from was the vogue.  How much I would have missed had I not taken the bagpipes into my soul.

The Red Hot Chili Pipers are my hope for being faithful to the generations who have gone  before and leaving a legacy for those who will follow after.  Oh may the gifts we were given be passed on and transformed to suit the time and the season of those yet to come, and may we gather with the

heavenly host to celebrate the glories of God being revealed and reflected again. Then we will share in the blessing our hearts await,"well done, good and faithful servant", the mantle is passed and like Elisha, they will be able to do far more than we ever dreamed.  I am grateful that I am my father's daughter, and my Father's daughter.  And may those who come behind us find us faithful.