A Bundle of Myrrh

Forgive me. I’m gonna whine for a few minutes.

When writing about the past and the things you miss, you can easily start to sound so ungrateful. So discontent. And to be honest I am both sometimes, most times.

I wouldn’t trade what I have now for anything.  I mean really.

Who wouldn’t want to have coffee with this crazy girl every morning?

Though it’s harder than I ever knew it would be, I have been blessed with the life I always wanted.

Richer than I was, more full than I knew possible….but.

I miss music.

I never quit my day job. I was never a “real musician” but music was still a big part of my life.

I miss the harmony and the joy of music.

 I miss making music.

The creativity of it.

The work of it.

 I miss blaring it. I miss dancing to it.

I miss the glamour of it.

Ha!

I miss the people of music.

I miss the fun of music.

Every mother has given something up. Every mother has something in her past that she put aside so she could mother. We gladly put those things aside.

Sometimes those things are gone forever. Most of the time I’m fine with that. I have so much to do and I find contentment in a lot of those things. But  sometimes it just gets to me.

I’m not saying that those were the “good old days”. I truly think what I have now will be the “good old days. And lets be honest, as fun as all that was then, I was miserable and lonely and depressed….pathetic until Phil came along and saved me from myself!

I can go years without thinking about that time. It is a privilege to pour myself into what I’ve been given now, but there are certain times I remember it all.

I think it may be hardest when Phil is writing a paper. He studies and he writes scholarly theological papers and I’m so proud of him for doing that. He’s good at it, he needs to use his gifts. But I get a case of the envies. Envious because I can’t do the same, because my “gifts” have sat dormant for 6 years now and may never come to light again.

Frustrated because all the work I do is constantly undone. Jealous because all the domestic skills I put my hands to seem to fail.

It also doesn’t help that we’ve been listening a lot to these talented ladies who reminded me of this old favorite duo….then I’m right back on the “Remember When” train headed to Poutville.  (and just cuz)

But I knew then that what I really wanted was something more than music. I wanted to be a wife. I wanted to be a mother.

So I pulled out my dusty badly tuned guitar and I fumbled through Skip to My Lou for my babies. They sang and they danced and it was fun…until they started fighting over who got to “play” next and fussing when it was time to put it away.

For now I’ll try to pour my love of music into my babies. Finding the time and ways to do that is a challenge at their age but I’m hoping.

Hoping that in between school work, the Bible lessons, the catechesis, bath time, crafts, cleaning their rooms and cooking me supper they will find a love for music. And not just a love but a talent for it. A talent I never had.

Or at the least they’ll humor me by pulling out the hymnal on occasion and singing the melody while Mama takes that good old alto line.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 4th, 2014 at 4:27 pm and is filed under Motherhood, Reflecting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.