Today's my Mom's birthday. She died a couple of years ago.
This memory of my Mom takes place in our house in Jersey Village, Texas. It was after we had moved back from Venezuela. I was a Sophomore in High School, and I was practicing my harp, horribly. Mom was in the kitchen making dinner and I just stopped playing. She came in and saw that I was crying.
She sat across from me on the piano stool. "What's wrong?"
"I'm so sorry, Mom! I know I begged to play the harp, but I don't want to anymore. I'm just not that good no matter what I do to try to get better. I hate to quit. All that time wasted! You and Dad spent so much money on lessons and harp rental, but I just don't think..."
She hushed me and hugged me. "Let me tell you something. When you were little, I thought you were tone deaf."
I stopped crying and just stared at her. "What?"
She gave a little laugh. "Let me finish. You sang the ABC song on a single note. Seriously, I called you little Jeani onenote. You've always had trouble hearing the different tones in music. But you love it and that's why your Dad and I were willing to spend the money on lessons and harp rental and the time driving you around for lessons and recitals and contests and performances. Even if you don't continue, it was worthwhile. You proved your persistence in something that was difficult because you love it. And really, that’s what being a kid’s all about, trying out new things and seeing what fits. Just like with clothes, you’re bound to grow out of some things.” She gave me another hug. “Learning new things is never wasted. Remember that. It’s always worthwhile.”
I sniffled a bit and wiped my nose. “So, even though I’m not at all graceful or coordinated, it would be okay if I tried out for Flags?”
She laughed and hugged me again. “Of course. It might even help with that!”
And you know what, she was right.
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