One of the most vivid and everlasting memories of my Father is from when I was 13 years old was about to compete in my first state accoridon championship. I had practiced my contest song for hours on end every day for months. I was so nervous about it and I knew that my Mom and Dad were just as nervous for me. It meant so much to me to do well in this contest, as my music was becoming a huge part of my life at this time. The night before the competition while I was practicing, one of the shift keys broke right off of my accordion. I was so upset but my Dad came to the rescue and with great care and precision, glued it back on for me. I practiced some more that night and my accordion seemed to work just fine. The Carnival Of Venice Polka. I knew I really had it down. The next morning Mom, Dad, Jimmy and I headed off to the Shine Inn in Chicopee. I can still remember the red velour dress and the white fishnet stockings that I was wearing. Remember it was the early 70's. :) I was so scared sitting there in that room in front of the judges. Mom and Dad were smiling at me in anticipation and then Dad gave me a little wink and a nod. I started to belt that song out and felt pretty good until it happened. My C and D major keys were stuck together so everytime I hit one or the other both would play. Horrible! Somehow the glue had run down into the keyboard. It must have taken all night to harden but those two keys were really glued together. I'll never know how I made it through the entire song trying to hold back my tears, but I did. The judges told me that I had done a very good job under the circumstances but I knew there was no way I could possibly win now. It was a long day for all of us waiting around for the trophy ceremony. I still don't know why we did. I remember we all went bowling at the hotel since there was an alley there. The entire time my poor Father kept apologizing to me and I kept trying to tell him that it wasn't his fault, he was just trying to help by fixing my instrument. It was a very quiet ride home. We were all so tired and as soon as we went into the house, I looked at my Dad, he had tears in his eyes and said, "I'm going to go for a walk." He went out the door and started to walk into the woods. It was a brisk but sunny afternoon in early April. I knew he was hurting. I ran out the door after him and asked him if I could walk with him. He just turned around and hugged me and started to cry. I cried too. We just stood and hugged for what seemed a pretty long time. Then he took my hand and we walked and walked, not really talking much. By the time we got back home we were both smiling and I realized that I would remember this walk for the rest of my life. And that it meant so much more to me than bringing home any old trophy. It was a very special day.