Ponderings

Somedays .... do you ever look back, at the pieces of who you were then, and wish a few pieces of then had managed to stick around for now?

No, I haven't lost my mind. Mike is out of town on business, and I find myself, as usual, up, 100% awake, and musing (although at the moment I am thankful to find myself here at 10 PM instead of 2 AM ... this has been known to happen). This musing started when Brendan, while practicing (have I mentioned he started band this fall? flute?) started doing all sorts of doodlings and overtones, and then I heard, "Moooooommmy I am tiiiiiirrrreeeeed of "Oh, Susanna! Do I haaaaave to keep practicing?"

I can't say I blame him. I've been hearing it for the last few weeks. I can totally see how he would be tired of it. Oy.

So, being the good mom I endeavor to be, while attempting at the same time to be good and not get him too too far ahead (Brendan seems to have some of the same musical gifts his parents - families - are blessed with, and Mrs. P has him demonstrate and all sorts of fun things to help prevent him getting bored), I went to dig through my piles of music, looking for beginner "stuff" in the key of E flat. They (collective they, as in all the 5th grade bandees) haven't done 3/4 time, or dotted notes yet, or anything in any other key, so it limits the options. However, I stumble on an appropriate version of "America" and bring that upstairs. He knows the tune, so I figured it was a decent way to introduce both factors, as he has sounded out many things on his own at this point. (You should hear him doodle his way through some vocal warm-ups Mike taught the kids. It's eye opening - it would make a fantastic instrumental warm-up!) Should be the end of the story, since now he's happy he has something familiar, something more interesting to do, and something cool he can show Mrs. P next Tuesday at his lesson, right?

Not so much; it got me thinking. I wonder if I can get some suggestions from a former teacher? So I go and dig up my college professor, which got me browsing the school website, and I ran across a video of an ensemble I used to be part of. That also sent me to the website for the youth orchestra I was in in high school, since said professor now conducts that youth orchestra (and has for several years). That, in turn, sent me looking through the parent orchestra, which unearthed a picture of the flute teacher I had in high school, who I loved dearly (and wish, very much, that I had kept in better contact with).

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip. That was a piece of my heart just ripping open again. Apparently the scar never quite healed.

The vast majority of the time, it isn't so bad; in fact, I don't even think about it much. But when I find myself confronted with reminders of who I was, what I was able to do, the joy involved, it is painful. There's a kind of grief there - when I left college, I dropped it all, not realizing I was ripping out a piece of who I am, much less how big that piece was. Maybe I'm overdramatizing it, I don't know. I don't know that I could ever get back what I had - my priorities are different than they were, although I'm not sure I was every as motivated as I should have been, even then. But I do miss playing and being a part of the classical music world. Maybe someday a door will open again there.

All that said ... I realize how incredibly blessed I am. I am a pretty contented creature overall. I just wish I hadn't pushed that part of me quite so far into the background.