truama

Two months ago, my sister, her husband and I were joined by our friends and family to celebrate a life that had passed on Labor Day -- that of my father.  It was a beautiful fall day in a chapel at the top of a mountain outside of Denver, Colorado with pine trees out the door and window and an interesting history of people collecting to come pay their respects.  The pace and theme of the service had been kept very much like a music program because it was put together by music teachers (sister and her husband), with my more serious piece interjected which reflected what I do for a  read more »