I am cheating. Today is still Day 18, Thursday. But I had to write about my day before I forgot. I just finished teaching. I am in my library "office". Tomorrow is the Mozart Requiem, which I need to focus on, so I may not have time to blog.
My last student of the evening was a little 6 year-old boy. He was really excited to show me that he figured out the next scale in the circle of fifths. I hadn't seen him for a few weeks, because of a function at his school. His dad and older brother also take lessons from me. He was really excited about his lesson today. He practically ran to the piano and jumped up on the stool! He told me he found a piece that he played when he was "little" (about a year ago, lol) and it was easy for him now. He played "Bear Dance" with excellent rhythm. I sat down and played the teacher duet with him. He was glowing with pride. Then he proceeded to whiz through the next 2 pages in his lesson book. Looking at the music page, not down at his fingers, which were expertly curved! He just suddenly "got" note reading. As if he is suddenly fluent in a new language.
I love all my students, but most of them learn primarily by hearing the music, patters, repetition, looking at their hands, and then by looking at the notes on the page. This little guy is actually reading the notes. Not sure if I am making sense. It was like that for me too as a child. I just practically instantly took to note reading.
These moments with my students make my heart soar!
This morning started out better than most mornings of late. Since I didn't watch the Sopranos before bed, I slept soundly. Woke up feeling brighter, less groggy. I had a nice bowl of steel cut oats for breakfast and spent some time in prayer and writing in my prayer journal.
Then, before the day got ahead of me, I hopped on the MAX train to the gym. While I waited for the train to arrive, I phoned my mother. She is always first on my list when I want to bounce ideas off of someone. But lately, since my father's stroke, I try not to rely on her so much. Our roles have switched a bit. I am trying to adapt to being the one to listen and support her. Being a caregiver is not a walk in the park. Especially one's own spouse. Especially my father.
I wanted to ask her if she had heard about the church that had burned in Hazeldell early this morning. It was the church on the hill that looked like an upside down boat. It was an icon for us, growing up in Vancouver. And one of my friends was the pianist there.
My mother said they were out at coffee. She had read about the fire in the paper and was very sad. She and my father had watched that church being built. But there was more than sadness in my mother's voice.
She did not sound like her normal spunky self. I asked her what was wrong. Was my father ok? She told me she was just tired. But she assured me she was fine and not too worry. Of course now I was worried. I asked her if she needed help. She said she was fine and needed to get back to. My father who was ready to go home. He gets impatient, she sighed. I told her to call anytime.
Then it occurred to me. This was Memorial Day weekend. Many of my students would be out of town. The Mozart Requiem would be history! I called her back and told her I was taking her to lunch Saturday. I heard a smile in her voice. Our family has always used meals as celebrations, as comfort and for connecting. I shall proudly carry on the tradition!
We can also talk about having our family take turns going over to give her a break. Even if she says she doesn't need help, we can at least start the conversation.
Overall it was a very productive day. I had a really nice, vigorous workout on the treadmill. I did 1.5 miles. And I sweated buckets! I was watching the CNN coverage of Donald Trump talking about his proposed energy policy. Also coverage of him making the required amount of delegates to be the Republican nominee.
This is all very entertaining. At least this election is helpful in keeping me entertained while working out!
But now I need to get into my Mozart zone.