“Grandpa, are you driving?”
The beautiful face of my three-year-old granddaughter filled the screen on my Smartphone. From her vantage point – thousands of miles away – it must have looked like I was driving, for I was seated in the front seat of my Subaru, huddled over the steering wheel which was hiding half my face. In actual fact I was not driving; I had pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant in St. Paul, Alberta, and was hastily eating a sandwich.
Ken Fast, with his Subaru and trumpet. Photo by Rick Dees.
Rather than exercising the healthier practice of sitting down and relaxing, taking time to digest the food in a proper manner, I was in a hurry – and was indulging in the bad habit of eating my fast food on the go. What a time for my grand-daughter to phone! I was en route to a band rehearsal scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes, and I did not want to be late.
“Hi there! No, love, I’m not driving; I’m having supper.”
Having supper in the car behind a steering wheel? I wonder how that looked to my granddaughter. After all, her parents make her sit at the table and eat her food properly, slowly and with dignity. And me, pushing 70 years old…am I being a bad example?
She looked intently at me, still not sure what to make of it all. In the background was the laughing face of her father (my son) who had engineered the video call, and he was obviously enjoying the moment. The call was coming from Dallas, Texas.
“I’m on my way to play some music,” I reported.
More blank stares. What is with this grandpa, sitting in a car, eating supper, and he is going to play some music?
“I am going to play my trumpet,” I repeated.
My trumpet case was sitting in the front seat of the car. Setting my half-finished sandwich up on the dashboard, I struggled to open the case (a Subaru Impreza does not have much room).
“Here, let me play a song for you.”
She was watching, very puzzled.
The front seat of a Subaru is not exactly the place for a trumpet performance, especially while holding a Smartphone. But this little girl wanted to hear me play music, and I guess there’s no time like the present, especially when you are a grandpa and your granddaughter lives two thousand miles to the south. Seize the moment!
I placed the trumpet to my lips and played some tune. (I don’t remember which one, but it must have had some swing, for she began to smile).
“When Grandpa and Grandma come down to Dallas for Christmas, should I bring my trumpet and play some more music for you?”
Now she was all smiles, and of course she said yes. I promised to bring the trumpet down.
I’m happy to say that just after Christmas we made the trek south, over to Manitoba, through swirling snow in the Dakotas, then down to Dallas where there was no snow or ice. Our family had a great time together, which is what holidays are for.
While in Texas, I unpacked my horn every day – a silver vintage Bach trumpet made in 1961 – and her eyes watched every move. I played some scales, but she wanted to hear songs.
My granddaughter had two favourite songs.
Jingle Bells.
The Nutcracker Suite.
Getting through Jingle Bells was a breeze, though my son instructed me not to swing it so much, just play it straight, the melody is more recognizable. Hold back on the syncopation. I was a bit rusty on The Nutcracker Suite, but discovered quickly how much she loved it. It’s a song made for dancing. As I played, she would slowly enter the ‘stage’ in the living room and then, up on her tippy toes, the ballet performance would begin…as I winged the tune, attempting an improvised version of the Tchaikovsky classic.
Ah, the memorable musical times of Grandpa and granddaughter. What a rare treat!
For many of us, those moments are too rare. If we’re fortunate our grandchildren live a short drive away, but not all of us are that lucky. So we make the best of the rare moments we have with them, and wish for more.
If a phone call comes in and you are sitting in the car biting into a fish filet sandwich, and it’s your granddaughter and she wants to say hello, never say no! Take a few minutes to chat, and even – if you wish – toot your horn for a few minutes, maybe hold an impromptu concert…but somehow make every visit extra special.
You won’t regret it, and neither will she.
