Ok, I'm going to be brutally honest and hang my vulnerability out for all to see. A lot of changes occurred in my life recently, and while I'm supposed to be the one waxing poetic, encouraging wise words to motivate and get readers off their "butts," I have been stuck on pause as I watch everyone else moving forward.
If a person (who shall remain nameless) finds herself crying a lot, does that mean they're depressed, or perhaps just temporarily out of sorts? I think it's a question for a meteorologist. After all, for teardrops to form there must be a loss of a stable layer, thus causing instability. Add a little moisture and voila: precipitation. Length of time for waterworks? Well that depends on the numerous atmospheric variables.
Both of my grown children have moved away, soaring onward and upward with their lives. While I am a kvelling, extremely proud mom, the nest is emptier and a lot quieter... and with a few tears every so often. Ok, very so often. Like one day it happened five or six times. Friends are either moving away, or busying away the days running to and fro trying to beat the clock. Adding to the unstable atmospheric conditions are changing relationships with family members (and not in the direction I'd have predicted or desired), doubts as to where I'm living, what I'm doing, where I'm going, and maybe a few hormones thrown in. I think in meteorology terms, it could be said that a storm is brewing. Or maybe a hurricane.
There is a bright star, however, shining through my shit storm, and that is my mother. For her 75th birthday, she showed and reminded me, and others, that it's never too late to do what you are passionate about. That it is never too late to attempt and successfully challenge yourself regardless of age. That it is never too late to feel accomplished and content.
My mother is a musical prodigy. She began playing the piano by ear when she was 3 1/2, composing at the age of 4, and playing Chopin by ear at 6. She started formal lessons at 5, gave solo concerts as a teen, and continued performing professionally all her life. But while raising her family, she did not continue her classical music seriously, but rather continued composing for musical theater and television, and performing less demanding works. Then at age 74, she realized that she wanted to go back to her roots of classical music. She wanted to regain her skills and technique before it was too late. She simply "didn't want to be the woman who used to play the piano." And she wanted her children and grandchildren to know her through her classical performances. So she set a date to perform a 45-minute serious classical recital, to coincide with her 75th birthday.
Mission accomplished. A few weeks ago, my beautiful mother had a recital, where 35 friends and family members (including her mother who's almost 102 years old), were honored to watch this master pianist at work. Her program consisted of works by Pinto, Khachaturian, and Chopin (her long standing favorite.). I'm hoping that her passion and determination will assist me through my current fog, to the other side, where I will find my own happy place.
I invite you to watch this four minute segment of her performance and see what I'm talking about, as a video is worth well more than 1,000 words.
Ladies and Gentlemen, my mother: