Memories of My Dad
My dad, Frank E. Bowers, died almost 20 years ago, on February 11, 2002. He was 60, and I was 10. Here are some memories in roughly chronological order. I remember my parents asking me when I was around kindergarten age, whether I wanted to take piano or violin lessons. I said piano, because my dad played the piano and I wanted to be like him. Sometime later, when I was in 1 st or 2 nd grade, I was practicing a piece, and my dad would listen to me practice and correct me when I made a mistake. I made a mistake, and he said, “Do it again.” And tried again, and I got it wrong, and he said, “Do it again.” And I tried again, and got it wrong, and he said, “Do it again.” This happened what felt like another 40-50 times to my young mind. Finally, I ran out crying to my mom who was working in the backyard. I told her, “Dad is being mean and making me practice the same part over and over again.” Dad came out to talk to her, and I listened to them talk. My dad said vehemently, “I know h