Last week, my father passed away from cancer at the age of 83. It was a long haul for him: three different cancers over twenty-five years, the most recent one a rare form a biliary cancer, which he held off with remarkable resilience for several years. Last November, he was given six months to live, but he outlasted that prognosis by three months with uncomplaining stoicism, gallows humor, and affable grace.
Dad was quiet, introverted, bookish, warm, sardonic, and supportive. And so, so musical and artistic! His music career included over forty years of university teaching and performing in chamber ensembles and philharmonics. When he retired, he switched to art, ultimately building a legitimate second career as a painter, selling many of his landscapes and showing regularly in galleries.
As a kid, I bucked the family trend by playing sports, and while I don’t think he got that, he got behind it, even showing up at my baseball games in his tuxedo on concert nights. He kicked off my love of film by taking me to Star Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark. He shaped my tastes with key early recommendations (Alfred Hitchcock, Mission: Impossible, John le Carré). And I’m pretty sure I inherited his habit of disappearing into his head for much of the day, with books and images, films and stories.
As a family, we were so very fortunate to have him, and to have so much good time with him near the end. Dad had good healthcare and limited pain and discomfort through it all. The staff at the home took great care of him, and Mom was a rock at his side. I’m grateful for how much time we had to wrap our heads around what was happening, and that I was able to fly home to see him several times over the past six months. As similar introverts, we had an amiable and uncomplicated relationship when I was a kid, but this year we were able to connect more deeply. We had several engaging heart-to-heart conversations, I read him one of my novels and “Phantom Agency,” and we talked about music history, art, even politics (when we could stand it). And we listened to scads of recordings of old performances he, Mom, and Alex did over the years.
I am so grateful to Dad and all that he gave us. An amazing musician, artist, teacher, father, and friend. I’ll miss him greatly.
