I miss my Mom.
.
I bought a $1 CD at the discount store the other day. It was a collection of royalty-free midi files designed for use on webpages. I wasn't about to run the install program - who needs an installer to play midi files? - so I was left to decypher cryptic filenames like avsprgm1.mid and fsthlark.mid.
Most of the modern stuff was pretty hokey, but some of the classical pieces were okay. I was about to throw it back in the pile when I clicked on fcnoctn2.mid and was for an all too brief moment, a child again.
My Mom played piano. One of the enduring images from my childhood is of her playing, sometimes singing softly as her fingers caressed the keys. The piece you're hearing now, if you clicked on the link above, is one she often choose, although I don't know if you could honestly call it her favorite. It's one of Chopin's Nocturnes, in E-flat Major, Opus 9, No. 2.
Her house was always full of music, even at the end when she grew unable to play or even sing herself. She gave all five of her children a love of music that still lives today. And I listened to the sweetness of the melody and cried, and thought of my Mom and how much I loved her.
I bought a $1 CD at the discount store the other day. It was a collection of royalty-free midi files designed for use on webpages. I wasn't about to run the install program - who needs an installer to play midi files? - so I was left to decypher cryptic filenames like avsprgm1.mid and fsthlark.mid.
Most of the modern stuff was pretty hokey, but some of the classical pieces were okay. I was about to throw it back in the pile when I clicked on fcnoctn2.mid and was for an all too brief moment, a child again.
My Mom played piano. One of the enduring images from my childhood is of her playing, sometimes singing softly as her fingers caressed the keys. The piece you're hearing now, if you clicked on the link above, is one she often choose, although I don't know if you could honestly call it her favorite. It's one of Chopin's Nocturnes, in E-flat Major, Opus 9, No. 2.
Her house was always full of music, even at the end when she grew unable to play or even sing herself. She gave all five of her children a love of music that still lives today. And I listened to the sweetness of the melody and cried, and thought of my Mom and how much I loved her.
posted by Realist @ 7:01 PM
1 Comments:
At 8:16 AM,
Anonymous said…
I wish I had known Joan in the days when she was able to make music. I will never forget the look on her face that Christmas that all the kids got together for the last time, when you were playing guitar and your sister was singing carols. That's the way I choose to remember her.
Post a Comment
<< Home