YaYa returned from camp with a little more maturity and confidence. It’s like this every year but, this year, it hit me harder than usual. Teenager! My son is well on his way to being a teenager. Given BoBo’s rocky path, this frightens me to no end. And yet…
We had just arrived at the camp drop off. Almost immediately, YaYa was picked out of the crowd by a couple of the ever-enthusiastic counselors. One ran over yelling his name, and minutes later YaYa was playing games with the same group of kids who have been coming to this camp year after year! This camp has been one of the few rock solid supports we know we can count on — a blessing for sure.
Paper covers rock.
The furrowed brow should clue you in to the fact that learning guitar is not coming easy for me. I’m past the point of sore fingertips, but still struggling to make music out of my efforts. Oddly enough, the cowboy hat did not magically transform me into a country western artist. Perhaps that’s because I trying to learn a Green Day song.
YaYa opened his eyes after making a wish and sent dandelion fluff flying with a few breaths. He then informed me that he had wished that I would have the “best Mother’s Day ever.” He had made this wish a reality way before dedicating his wish on me.
We were out on a 5-mile hike, just him and me. It was what I wanted to make my day special and he was more than willing to comply with my request. The bicycling around the neighborhood, that occurred beforehand, served as bonus bonding. YaYa will be inheriting my old Bianchi, at least until he outgrows it, and the road trip served to orient him to shifting and toe clips. Much like when I first taught him to ride a bike, the feel-good emotion that accompanied seeing him improve his cycling skills was fabulous. I would have been happy if our bonding time ended with the ride but, of course was thrilled to have more time together.
After a week away at Science Camp, there was much to be shared. YaYa told me about his week and I told him about mine. We drank up the beauty and ate up the challenge of each ascent. Oh, and we laughed with disgust when he learned that our flat-coat retriever was no different than the others in his breed – known for their “appetite” for fecal matter.
We took our time, walking a bit before stopping to photograph the flowers, bugs, and lizards. We took turns balancing on waterlogged wood and skipping rocks. In doing so, we each took turns marveling at the other, noting how each of us possess talents different from the other. As we went, we passed other hiking groups on their own Mother’s Day outings – many with children (ranging from toddler to teens) kicking a screaming the entire way. This served to highlight how lucky I am to have a son who actually wants to spend time with me.
Truly I am blessed for I have a son who cares enough to wish on flying dandelion fluff that I will have the best Mother’s Day ever. Because of his good wishes and well-intended actions, it was indeed the best.
I’ve always wanted to play an instrument. Piano, guitar, and violin are just a few of the musical instruments that have enticed me over the years. Until recently, however, my want was never enough to take the next baby step of signing up for lessons. I’m not sure why. Perhaps, I just didn’t want to find out that I wasn’t any good.
Until January. This was when I received an email regarding a few short courses available through the local community college. I’m on their mailing list because YaYa’s summer school was booked through them. I clicked on the link and found a beginning acoustic class. Better yet, it was one which YaYa and I could take together.
I signed up, then struggled to make the lessons fit into our busy schedule. We are currently in the 2nd session and my young boy is really making progress. I wish I could say the same about myself but, sadly, that is not the case. I SUCK! But I am not giving up.
This weekend, I found myself front and center at another awesome music event. The couple, Tim & Nicki Bluhm, are so amazing that the thought of fitting in a last minute drive to the city on Easter Sunday was without question the right thing to do. I emailed to see if the venue was kid-friendly and, upon receiving the confirmation, requested the tickets.
So there I was, watching the two strum and pick at their guitars. They made it look so easy and sound so beautiful. Of course, the additional component of their voices makes for a performance so amazing that I was left wiping tears from my cheeks several times throughout their performance.
I know what you’re thinking. It’s true; I do cry a lot.
After the tears were dried, I went home inspired to step up my efforts in learning this craft called guitar playing. I brought the guitar from the family room into my bedroom. The hope was that even a few extra minutes of practice before falling off to sleep it will surely help. Every little bit helps. Right? Did I mention that I suck?