I so remember that piano when we passed through Pancreas some years ago. Not that I can play, or the wife, but there was a band playing there and they were amazing. I love those kind of places where they put pianos out for people to play just because they can...and the kids leaving and not getting in touch with you...? I look at the wife and say to her, it's payback for what we did to our parents. And life goes on, Mamma.
When I traveled through Europe at twenty-two it was pre cell phone so I found an occasional phone booth to check in with mom. I remember cherishing those standing-too-long-in-a-cramped-box moments but they were few and far between.
“This dance of letting go and getting on with our own lives is a sheet music annotated in felt tips.” 💛
I’m thinking of his parents, letting him go, and remembering the day we dropped our now 55-year-old son at university. I wore sunglasses to hide my tears.
I dreamed of playing the piano when I was a child and love to see the impromptu performances, although it’s been a while since I saw a pianist on a public piano. I bought a cassette tape from a busker in Winchester over 25 years ago who was the most amazing acoustic guitarist, but I have lost it in the intervening years and regret not taking better care of it.
Susie restacked my favourite quote - “This dance of letting go and getting on with our own lives is a sheet music annotated in felt tips.” My children who are not mine but their own person have not yet grown to adulthood-but still they flex their wings and fly beyond me and I do my best to deal with it…
I so remember that piano when we passed through Pancreas some years ago. Not that I can play, or the wife, but there was a band playing there and they were amazing. I love those kind of places where they put pianos out for people to play just because they can...and the kids leaving and not getting in touch with you...? I look at the wife and say to her, it's payback for what we did to our parents. And life goes on, Mamma.
😊❤️
Eyes got a bit wet there. If you want to be checked in with, get a daughter. They do it a lot.
Ah, right.
When I traveled through Europe at twenty-two it was pre cell phone so I found an occasional phone booth to check in with mom. I remember cherishing those standing-too-long-in-a-cramped-box moments but they were few and far between.
“This dance of letting go and getting on with our own lives is a sheet music annotated in felt tips.” 💛
When I left I’m not even sure I told my mum I was going. I could have done with a bit of mothering but it was absent and so I never called at all.
Well then that one’s on your mom. Love how you’ve transformed that story with your boys.
Yes. I’d rather risk being too much than too little. I’d rather they took my love for granted than doubted its existence.
I’m thinking of his parents, letting him go, and remembering the day we dropped our now 55-year-old son at university. I wore sunglasses to hide my tears.
I dreamed of playing the piano when I was a child and love to see the impromptu performances, although it’s been a while since I saw a pianist on a public piano. I bought a cassette tape from a busker in Winchester over 25 years ago who was the most amazing acoustic guitarist, but I have lost it in the intervening years and regret not taking better care of it.
Susie restacked my favourite quote - “This dance of letting go and getting on with our own lives is a sheet music annotated in felt tips.” My children who are not mine but their own person have not yet grown to adulthood-but still they flex their wings and fly beyond me and I do my best to deal with it…
It is pain and triumph.
This is lovely Eleanor. My girls are 50 and 47. It is the same for me. My heart leaps in the “there she is way” still today.
❤️
simply beautiful for those of us who've known heartbreak of kids going away
Thank you
Oh the transitional phases. The times when exactly how it should be still feels tumultuous. Sending love.