I remember so clearly my father sitting and listening to his old vinyl recording of Caruso singing I Pagliacci. My father's eyes were half closed, his lips were trembling, and tears were running down his cheeks.
Here is that recording.
Here is that recording.
When I listened to it just now, I cried heavily. I cried for Pagliacci and I cried for my father. I miss my father so much. He helped shape my inner life according to his. Although his outer life became a mess, his inner life shone with the joys and values he nurtured in me: love of learning, science, history, poetry, literature, music, art, humor, and a sensitivity to the plight of those "less fortunate than we," which led him to progressive political activism. I miss my father so much.