Tuesday, December 22, 2009
It's been many years since I lived with a piano. I have not had daily access to one since I moved away from home. So it's wonderful and strange to once again share my space with one of these imposing pieces of musical furniture.
The piano that now sits in my front hallway beckoned me yesterday when I came upon some old Gilbert and Sullivan sheet music. I sat to play, but it wasn't the plaintive strains of Tit Willow that sent me into reverie, it was what fell out of the book of sheet music.
Hidden away between the pages were some photographs of my mother and father, taken perhaps a year or so before my mother became ill and only a couple of years before their deaths. I felt startled, but I cannot say why. They are familiar faces of loved ones, faces one has known for a lifetime yet strangely missing for some time from my view. I thought briefly about what to do with them, then slid them back into the book of music and continued playing.
This morning, the images of the photos came back into my mind and I wondered if I oughtn't to frame a picture to put atop the piano. But something stopped me, a fear of something I cannot name.
Perhaps it is only that there are not daily reminders that makes it possible to live in a world that is forever changed by their absences. I don't know why I should feel unnerved by photographs of my parents, it may be that they are so alive and themselves in these pictures, and I am overwhelmed.
On Christmas Eve, it will have been 6 years since my mother succumbed to the cancer that took her life. I wonder how long it will be before I can look at a photo and not feel the emptiness that her passing left in my world.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
This winter promises to be a lot like last winter. Snow, some more snow and then snow again. I must admit that I love the way the world looks when it's covered in a newly-fallen blanket of white. But, do I really love the snow? I took the ultimate snow quiz and found out that I don't love snow as much as I used to. I know that when I was a kid, I would have definitely been an all-out snow bunny. Perhaps age brings us all to the point where the joy of snow is blunted by a cold slap of reality.
You Are a Snow Kitten
You like snow in small doses. You find snow to be comforting, and you love to snuggle up under a blanket of snow.
You're not a big fan of the hassles of snow. You're happy to see it come, but you're also happy to see it go.
Go ahead and venture out in the snow from time to time! Throw a snowball or make a snow angel.
You have an inner snow bunny inside you, and it's time to let that bunny play.