Harry Belafonte

You were about eight months old when you heard Harry Belafonte for the first time. You loved his music. That's something you inherited from your grandfather. Dida Toni. I grew up with Harry's music, I liked it, but not like you. I would listen to your grandpa's select tunes on a cassette over and over again during different road trips. I still have a reflex when a "Island in the sun" song is about to end to start singing the famous "day'o". I'll explain cassettes to you one day. When I get a cassette player.

You would think that "Day'o" was about you. You would flinch every single time. Genuinely curious and cute to die for. 

You should know that I tried to push you to classical violin. Your excitement lasted from when you were 6 months until half an hour after I played Ma vlast by Smetana.

But Harry you chose. 

And you would sometimes sing his songs.

On the day I am writing this he passed away. 

He wasn't a big part of my life until you made him that. And I feel sad. Perhaps so you wouldn't.

Remember people through their deeds.

You made Harry live beyond his lifetime every time you sang "Te'o".

Love

Tata