Little things

So now we’ve entered Holy Week again, the road that leads to the cross… and thankfully, beyond.  Palm Sunday at my new parish home was wonderful, and I was thankful once again to have been welcomed and embraced in that community.

On the afternoon of Good Friday, my son and I begin the drive to Ontario to visit my beau.  I’m excited because he’s agreed to participate in the music-making on Easter Sunday.  My fiancé is the organist at his parish, and my boy will be playing violin and I’ll be playing flute with the hymns.  And… I wrote a postlude on the hymn tune Engelberg (“We know that Christ is raised, and dies no more…”) that we’ll all play together.  I’m so thrilled because my son hasn’t wanted to make music with me before.  He has matured so incredibly much over the last couple years, and it is amazing to watch and listen to him.

My daughter has been under the weather for several days now, and I’ve been worried because I don’t know what’s going on.  It’s hard, because her only symptoms are fatigue and weakness.  No fever, no congestion, no sore throat, no swollen glands, no tummyache.  Just fatigue, and a slightly elevated white blood cell count.  She slept until 2pm Saturday, which is very unlike her.  When she got home from school yesterday, she went to bed, and only got up for us to go to the doctor.  She slept ten hours last night, watched a movie while lying on the couch, and then took another two-and-a-half-hour nap.  She has seemed okay this evening, but I’m still concerned.  I hope she does okay with a full school day again tomorrow.  I’m putting her to bed by 9pm tonight, and being sure she has a water bottle with her at all times.

Over the weekend, I hung curtains, put pictures on some of the walls, got my new gas grill put together, assembled more pieces of furniture, and spent way too much money at the hardware store.  This afternoon, my daughter and I went up to the U-Haul to fill my propane tank, and then stopped at the grocery store to pick up a gorgeous piece of Porterhouse.  I lit the grill – it didn’t explode! – and cooked our steak just perfectly.  We had it with salad and a fresh baguette from the bakery.  It was a wonderful supper.  And I was so cheered to grill out again.  In Virginia Beach, anyone who signed a lease on an apartment after some time in 2001 (IIRC) is not allowed to have a barbecue grill on their patio, so I haven’t grilled out since I moved out last June.  I used to grill all year ’round – burgers, hot dogs, ribs, chicken breasts, pork chops, steak, vegetables, quesadillas, potatoes, kebabs.  Mmmmm!  But most of all, it felt great to put together the grill and fix my first supper on it, all by myself.  It’s been great to finally grow up and feel independent.

Amazingly, over the last year as I’ve learned to be free and independent, I’ve also learned how very much I need other people, and that is an equally precious gift.

Well, my friends, I wish you a blessed Holy Week, and all the joy and wonder of Easter.

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2 thoughts on “Little things

  1. This is the first time I’ve ever responded to a blog. But, as a late-fifties, semi-mystic, Presbyterian, flutist, oboist, composer, parent of three adult “children”, I resonated well with your comments about the delight of having your son want to make music with you. My daughter (middle child) is an accomplished pianist, oboist, and singer. there was a time I couldn’t bribe her to play with me. She now lives a day’s drive away, she doesn’t get home very often. So for the past few years, I’ve made a practice of writing preludes for flute, oboe and organ for us to play at Christmas Eve services. It is such a joy to share music making, ministry, and worship with her.

    May you and your son and your fiance enjoy many more such sessions.

    Blessings upon you.

    John Goss

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  2. Welcome, sir – I’m glad you commented! The music-making went really well. It was wonderful to practice with him last Thursday, and then to play together on Easter. I think it helped him that it was a “strange” church, not his home parish, so the only people there who knew him were my fiance and me.

    The voice-doubling was fun, especially on “Praise the Lord with the Sound of Trumpet(s?).” I played piccolo on the second verse, which inspired the resounding compliment “Wow, Mom, that wasn’t as horrible as I’d thought it would be.” When it comes from a teenaged boy, that’s high praise!

    Peace and blessings,
    warriormare

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