Here's the cover of my latest journal that I started after my Dad's unexpected death. The handwriting on the cover ("Daddy's Little Girl" comes from the copy of the cassette tape cover that's turned sideways under the heart and the hand. He made David, Tristan and I a tape few years ago with some of his favorite songs on it. He called the tape "Bapa's kind of music" which is funny as for the most part, he loved all kinds of music. Bapa was what Tristan always called him. Daddy wanted to be called "Da" but "Bapa" was easier for Tristan to say and it stuck. I guess my sister and I called our Grandfather on my Mom's side that though I don't remember ever calling him that. It's only because I found a postcard from the 70's that said Love, Bapa when Grandpa was in Utah that we know that!)
The minute we got into the car the radio would go on (if it wasn't already.) Sure, he knew how to have a great conversation (we often did) but his music was often part of the soundtrack of our lives. Our house wasn't really ever a quiet house. If it wasn't music in the car (or shower), it was the television. Something was always on and it was rarely ever on low.
It's because of my Dad that I have an appreciation for a variety of music: 40's, doo wop, oldies, old country (Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline. I can't stand the modern stuff), 70's, rap, etc... It's funny, though, as he hated jazz (I love jazz). I think I'm one of the few folks who immediately set their car rental radio stations to XM: 40's, doo wop, 60's, hair bands, old time radio, etc... So even though there was music that Dad didn't appreciate, he instilled a love of a wide variety of music into his daughters.
My Dad's gone (almost a month now) and I'm holding tight to his music and the memories that come with it.