Rest in Peace, Luciano Pavarotti

Luciano Pavarotti died today at age 71.



The only reason I bring this up is because hearing him always, always reminds me of my dad. My dad used to listen to records of Pavarotti singing arias, and I always remember the record of Pavarotti with the Vienna Boys Choir, singing Christmas songs. Specifically Adeste Fideles and O Holy Night. Also, and more memorably, I remember dad banging away at the piano, singing at the top of his lungs various arias (or, walking around in the basement holding a songbook and singing various arias at the top of his lungs). It wasn't quite the same, but Dad really wanted to sing like Pavarotti. Who wouldn't?

As the years pass, more and more people who were contemporaries or heroes or important people during the time dad was alive are dying. I read recently something to the effect of, "You forget what you want to remember and remember what you want to forget." At least with people like Pavarotti and Peter Jennings and Richard Nixon around there was still a sense that dad was real, that there was a time when he was alive and part of my life. That sense, along with my memories of him, is steadily disappearing.