Hi Lovely Beautiful People,
Wow, it’s May, and the irises are starting to bloom. As I sit on the piano bench, looking out the window in my living room and begin to practice, I ponder over memories of my mother. You know I’m not a child prodigy on the piano. I didn’t start playing at age five, nor did I begin performing concerts at age 7. My mother always wanted me to have a piano, not even really knowing if I could actually play or not. She always wanted me to be the best at everything. I don’t know if she secretly wanted to play piano, but the goal was to one day have a piano, and I took hold of that. She attended San Francisco State and studied music for two years. The joy of music rubbed off on me, and I didn’t have a clue.
As I started my sophomore year of college, I decided to take a private course in beginning piano. At this point, I didn’t have a piano of my own, nor had I ever played before. I went to a private Catholic college, and my instructor was a nun whose specialty was classical music. I could only practice at the East Building in the piano study rooms while I was on campus. I didn’t stay in a dorm for a variety of reasons. I would catch the bus with my Dad being my chaperone and come to school early to practice before my 9 am class. I was a very protected and sheltered only child, so you read that correctly. My Dad would ride the bus to me to college before he went to work. Without a piano, I could go through the first semester and perform a recital at the conclusion.
That next semester, my parents purchased me a piano at a great deal, and I still play on that same piano today. I enjoy learning new pieces. Right now, I am taking a course in piano to sharpen those skills. My mother and father always wanted the best for me and would do whatever they could to help me pursue my goals. I’m their only child, and as I shed tears, I love them so much.
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Am I a concert pianist? No, but I enjoy playing. Every time I sit down and play, I am humbled and grateful for their love and overflowing generosity. Even after all these years, it has not been easy to share memories of my mother and father. I would not want to go to church because people would say Happy Mothers Day to me, not knowing whether my mother is on earth or actually a mother myself. I have grown to nod when people say Happy Mothers Day and smile, which is really okay. I remember saying to my friends that Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are hard for me to talk about because they are both in heaven. I realize I have to change my mindset because if I don’t talk about the love they had for me, no one will ever know.
I miss my mother, grandmother, and father, but I know they are with the Lord, and they are forever in my heart. My family is not big, but they were family. The treasure of the beautiful times with my parents is fond jewels to hold on to.
Whether you are a mother, a step-mother, an aunt, a father-mother, a fur-mom, an influence, or however you may have positively impacted a child’s life, I say Happy Mothers Day to you! You do not have to conceive a child to be a motherly influence.
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