I've thought a lot about Mom today. I usually do on Sunday; that's what makes Sundays so hard. During the week, Mom would get really busy. She was always running around doing amazing things for people and my time with her was often limited. That's not to say that she didn't take care of my dad and me. The house was always spotless and dinner was on the table, no matter how busy the day had been. I was usually busy too with music lessons and school, so there was not much quality time for my mom and I.
However, Sunday evenings were sacred for us. It was our time to do what we loved. To make music. She would sit at the piano and I would grab my violin. We'd play whatever I'd been working on, and maybe a few old songs. Eventually I'd turn to her and say, "Mom, can we sing now?" If she felt I'd done enough violin, she'd allow me to move on to my true passion. This was my time to try singing absolutely anything. I could put anything in front of her, and she could play it nearly perfectly. Oh how I cherished those times!
If I could have one more day with her, I'd probably want to spend at least half of it this way. It's not something we could do the last few months of her life, because playing became very difficult for her. That was so frustrating for her! But I will always look back to the times we spent at the piano as ours. Just me, my mom, and our music.
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