The theater was full of little girls in plaid, buns, bows and pearls. They had done this before...many were seasoned performers. They had a bow complete with hand flourish. We were the new kids and boy did we feel like it. Or at least this Mom did.
I sat there wondering if I should have dressed her differently or made her hair fancy. I was hoping that 45 minutes a day of practice and an hour lesson a week was enough. Should she have started before the age of 7? Many kids were home schooled. Was I doing enough??? I then realized these doubts were my own. Not hers. These doubts were about me. She was just fine. We picked a perfect outfit with appropriate hair to play a piece of music flawlessly. I sat there with tears in my eyes as she played. My heart pounding so hard it could have been in the percussion section. She was perfect.
The category had 2 winners which is one less than it usually has. Budget cuts had bothered even this. They played beautiful pieces as well and we were happy for them. I was very proud of how she handled everything....the playing, the performing, the "losing". Her immediate reaction was to begin to contemplate next year's performance piece. That said so much.
It's hard being a mother. If we were already doubting ourselves as women...nothing like a baby to make you wonder even more. But today I was reminded of the strength they help us to remember. They are mirrors. As she hit the keys to the perfectly timed tempo I relaxed. I sat still and took a deep breath and let the notes wash over me as she played in the theater. I watched a little girl sit at a grand piano on a stage in our sweet little town. We BOTH worked hard to get her there. I told her that someday she might even be up on that stage again playing to a sold out crowd and to please remember her biggest fan and maybe hook her up with some free tickets.
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