Listening

Papyrus {April} by Sara Gleason
Music to my Ears by Designed by Soco and Nini Goes Gidi
Beech Tree Elements by Sara Gleason
Black and White Only Elements by Paula Kesselring
Makers Gonna Make Collab. By The Lilypad Designers
Sprinkles Foundation by Valorie Wibbens
The Brushes Emphatic by Allison Pennington
Live a Little Elements by One Little Bird
Live a Little Papers by One Little Bird
Watercolor Fotoblendz #6 by Anna Aspnes

386 Words
Journaling Reads:
Fourteen years ago, you, my son, joined the orchestra at school. When the time came to choose your instrument, you picked the cello. One of the biggest instruments you could find. The two of us would walk to your elementary school, which was just up the street from our house. One day, I ran into the mother of one of your classmates. She rushed up to me and said “You’re the mother of the walking cello!” The photo on the left says it all. You carried the cello on your back, and it was taller than you were. We heard the comment about the walking cello pretty often!

Now, all these years later, as I sit here listening to you as you play your guitar, I am blown away by both your talent and your determination. You have the ability to compose and play your own music, and you do both so well. In the months that you have been home, I have heard you practice so often that I find myself listening to you play, anticipating the notes that follow, and loving every minute of it. As I sit here listening, my mind wanders back to those early days of you learning cello. You came home that first day with this enormous cello, sat down and started to “play.” My ears hurt!

The year before the cello, you came home from school with a recorder. Your music teacher wisely suggested using mini-marshmallows as ear plugs! She was not wrong! I am so thankful you have pursued your love of music. It warms my heart that your electric guitar is such a source of joy for you. I know that all too soon you will leave home again, and the house will be quiet once more. I am savoring every minute of the “noise” while I can. I love you.