It's been over two months since I posted anything on here. I am still woefully behind on my backlog of photos I've wanted to include from last year. There are so many happy moments I want to preserve and remember through images and include some journaling to go with it. But it is hard to sit down and reminisce about more peaceful times when the current world is in so much turmoil. We are months into a pandemic that has turned everyone's lives upside down--there are weekly battles with anxiety and depression. The civil and political unrest is horrifying, and more than once I have had nightmares where the president of our nation is a despicable villain from whom I had to protect my family. To top it off, our side of the country has been on fire for weeks, causing it to rain ash, painting the sun an eerie red, and leaving an inescapable scent of smoke in the air.
But there are some silver linings.
I have recommitted myself to my family. Being pushed to my limits as a wife and mother has forced me to reevaluate my priorities and determine how I can move forward to best preserve and improve these relationships. Despite the brutality of 2020 and all of us seeing each other at our worst, we are still together. We have found ways to better support each other in moments of weakness, and, perhaps out of necessity, have learned to trust each other more. It is still hard--sometimes the kids just desperately crave space from each other, which isn't always easy to provide. Schools are only partially open (as of this week), activities are still limited, and restrictions abound. We are home a lot and get on each other's nerves a lot. But I like to believe that most of the time, love still wins in this house. Even when it's a sore battle, and she wears the scars to prove it, she still comes out on top more often than not. And maybe, because she's had to work so hard, she is stronger than she was before.
I miss playing in orchestra. I miss that big sound that surrounds me and fills our performance space. I miss weaving different fabrics of symphonic sounds together with my musician friends. But I have learned to appreciate other instrumentations, too. String trios with my students. A quartet for a wedding. A double trio that performed at church a couple of weeks ago (Ramona played her violin and was by far the youngest in the group, but kept up just fine). Of course, unaccompanied Bach for cello.
. . . and solo piano, although I wasn't the one playing (thank goodness). Last Friday, Forest and I went to our first live musical performance in months. I got an invitation to a faculty recital by pianist Adam Zukiewicz at UNC and was thrilled that we were able to go. There were only about 12 audience members in the entire performance hall, all of us socially distanced and clad with face masks. He opened with the solitary, brooding notes of Beethoven's "Moonlight" Sonata, and I felt my eyes get a little wet. It had been too long.
I asked Forest if he would drive us through a Culver's on the way home to add just a little more sweetness to the evening. He was happy to oblige.
Forest went to see the evening performance:
At the end of the month, Ramona and went to a library program about Helen Hunt Jackson. She had just dressed up as Jackson in December for her wax museum project, so we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see someone ELSE dressed up as this historical figure.
