Yesterday during my run, I heard notes from a saxophone lift above the usual whistles, hollering, and grunting of the high school football field. At first I wondered if the band was rehearsing on the track. But as I passed by, I noticed this young musician practicing on his saxophone on the bleachers.
Surprised, I smiled. I guessed he was keeping himself busy while waiting for a sibling to finish practice.
But mostly he reminded me of my Dad. He used to make my brother and my kids practice musical instruments at the strangest times. Mostly out the car window on road trips. I could picture our family piled in the car with my brother honking his trumpet out the car’s back window. So stinking funny. But that’s what childhood memories are all about.
What a totally unexpected trip down memory lane.