Leaving the baton

A large package arrived yesterday full of programs of concert schedules, special recitals attended, visiting artists, the complete Carnegie Hall series, etc. My mother had sent her musical updates from New Jersey sharing the many options for all interested in the arts in the New York area. A musician living in New Jersey is like a kid living next to the toy store! So much available!

Tucked away in all of her program treasures was a small envelop with two pictures of my great grandfather taken in the early fifties. I was about six at the time. He was retired from his job and was pictured laughing with his two very favorite daughters. I had heard bits and pieces about him and like any youngster was not able to grasp a big picture of anything, or would not. They had told me about him, and while I tried to be polite, it didn't have any impact, one of the many tragedies of youth!

This weekend I officially retire from my job. It is interesting that these pictures arrived after all of these years just on this day! How I wish I could have talked with him about so much that we have (had) in common. Separated by two generations we lived in the same world and on the same musical page, but never knew each other. His job? He had been first trombone with the John Philip Sousa band, and had also held principal jobs with several orchestras.

I leave the CSO with many stored memories of musical highs and experiences. But after the trumpet baton has been handed off to another, I would like to be pictured like my great grandfather, enjoying his family and able to share with the following generations some of that with which I have been richly blessed.