Dear Papa, I miss you so much. You were such an enormous part of our lives that it’s very strange not physically having you with us. You shaped each and every one of our characters. For instance, you started me with music. In 2009, while Dad was in Iraq and you lived with us, you took me and Mom to see Anne Akiko Meyers perform a concert with Annapolis Symphony at Maryland Hall. She had a CD signing session during intermission, and we bought two. I had been playing the violin for two years at that point. Anyhow, you kept one CD and we kept the other. You played it practically every day on that stereo in the library. Well, either that or Jascha Heifetz or Vladimir Horowitz. There was a 95% chance of hearing at least one of those artists at any given point in the waking day. You never got tired of listening to it! I will always remember doing my schoolwork, opening presents on Christmas, or simply relaxing with a good book (schoolbook, of course) in Rural Felicity, all the while hearing the beautiful melodies emanating from the library. In January 2014, we went to see Joshua Bell perform Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, and in June we watched an All-Bruckner concert. Music was always a part of you, and you instilled that love into me. You loved to listen to music, whether it was highly successful professionals or my mistake-ridden practicing. I had the misfortune of being born into a completely non-musical family, so we were the loners as far as really appreciating music. Frequently, you would ask me to turn on the record player, as you called it, and we would listen to Horowitz, Meyers, Kreisler, Heifetz, Stern, et cetera, as we went about our business. It was because of you that Mom consented to get me piano lessons at age four—you heard me plunking around on the piano and decided that I was destined to be a musician. These early piano lessons grew into violin lessons as well, which, even in the early days of my violin career, you didn’t mind listening to. Next to love, family, and companionship, you gave me the greatest gift of all—a love of music. Because of you, I am more content playing Lalo’s Symphonie Espagnole or Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto or listening to classical music than I am riding a bike with friends or playing a video game. I will forever remember your history classes. You taught us so much and related it to current events. I loved the Book of Days, where we would read what happened on a particular day. You were always so interested in whatever topic we were studying, whether it be ancient cultures or gun control. Papa, I would not be the person I am now without you. Everyone in the whole wide world should strive to lead a life like yours. You should have no regrets—well, none except for the time you thought you saw a quarter under the sofa where your Mother was reading and set it on fire when you held the match under it, or when you threw the rocks down the school ventilators and scared the teachers in grade school, or let fireflies out in the movie theater when you were little! I will always remember your stories, your laugh, your love of books, your sense of humor, your service to your country—the list goes on and on. But what I will remember most is how you were and are the best Papa to ever walk the face of this earth and the clouds of Heaven. I love you most! Ann Marie