• My_Dad   (mp3 format; 4:34 -- 6.6 Mbytes)

The last few years had been a struggle. Dementia is a terrible, horrible disease. Dad is at peace now.

I knew I would need to give a eulogy for Dad, but I had no idea what I could say. The words all melted in the face of his amazing life and achievements. And more so in the light of his love for us. Nothing measured up. Then I thought "hey, I'm a composer. I'll write a piece celebrating Dad's life." Yeah, like that was going to be easy...BUT two days after Dad passed away, I went down into the sudio and this one just happened.

I told the (huge!) crowd at Dad's 'Celebration of Life' service that Dad wasn't particularly a music fan. However, sounds played a big role in his living context. Fortunately the kind of music I generally create uses technology to work directly with sound.

I gave the audience a short 'tour' ahead-of-time of the sounds I used in the piece:

• It starts with a sound I called a "harmonic cascade". This sound actually came from an older piece that Mom really liked. To me it represents Dad's ideals, the way he was an outstanding role model, the joy of his work and his closely-held values.

• The next sound is a low drone, the solid and steady underpinning of his love, always there. I mentioned that Dad wasn't really religious, but he was the most moral and ethical person I knew.

• The next sound that quietly sneaks in is the hubub of people in the background, followed by the steady roar of a football game. Dad liked to have these sounds around him. Anyone who has ever visited the Senate chambers while the legislature is in session will be struck by how much talking is going on, even while the business of governing is being transacted. Dad liked this background, and also the sound of a football crowd; the sound of my Sunday afternoons with our family. Dad would turn on the television almost like a fireplace, not realy paying attention but using the blanket of sound -- it was always at a low volume -- to accompany his reading of bills, committee reports, etc. When I hear that sound, I feel that life is good, that all is ok with the world.

• The next two sounds to enter are readings from two of Dad's important texts. The first is from his speech The True Measure of a Man that won the 1963 International Toastmasters Speech Contest award. The second is more recent, an article he wrote called The Importance of Civility. They are purposefully low in volume, intended to function as sound, the sound of Dad's thoughts. (to read the original writings, click here (Toastmaster's speech) and here (Civility article)).

• The final two sounds are dear to my father: the sound of Wood Lake on a summer night, what Dad would hear when out fishing; and the soundscape of Canada (oh the loons!) where we would go fishing every year.

I closed my eulogy by talking about a vision of the afterlife that our 12-year-old son Daniel had articulated. The details are here (scroll down a bit in the 1/28/2007 entry to the "Brian Greene" paragraph). My father is most assuredly living in the heaven he constructed here on earth.

But in the meantime I really miss you Dad.

Brad Garton
September, 2026