Hearing Echoes of My Past in the Music of My Son
<p>When my youngest son was not yet three, a violin solo on the public radio station lit up the kitchen one morning. Hunter froze with a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth.</p>
<p>Tears slid down his cheeks, and he said, “I’m okay, mama. I don’t know why that music makes me cry.”</p>
<p>I found him a piano teacher the next day.</p>
<p>Piano, violin, guitar, and vocals — for years, music filled his life. Though now he’s given up life on the road with his band for that of a software engineer, husband, and devoted dad, creating music still energizes, soothes, and inspires him.</p>
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