as Anne of Green Gables would say,

yesterday was an epoch in my life.

Every Mother's Day for the past ten years, we have had to scarf down our yummy mother's day lunch at Anna's, open gifts and cards at the speed of light, and hurry out the door to get to Oxford in time for my afternoon violin recital.

But yesterday was the very last time for all that.

For ten years, the week leading up to Mother's Day is a never ceasing continuation of sick feelings in my stomach and nervous tremors in my heart. By the time I get to the church itself, I'm barely able to walk in a straight line because my legs are be shaking so. (Oh, wait. I can barely walk in a straight line when my legs aren't shaking. It's called being a klutz.) And sitting on the hard folding chair, watching my doom draw nearer and nearer every second is pure torture. 'Cause you never, ever play your best with trembling legs and sweaty hands in front of a ton of people. In fact, you often just mess up big time. Which is loverly.

For some reason, maybe because joy was so strong within me, I wasn't nervous yesterday. Nor was Ellie, my superb accompanist, who has for these many years put up with foul notes, faster-than-supposed-to-be tempos at the last minute, etc. We weren't sure whether it was maturity or just plain stupidity causing us not to have swarms, herds, schools, droves, and flocks of butterflies killing each other in our stomachs, but we decided maturity sounded better, so we went with that one.


And now I'm done. Mother's Day can be a relaxing day where we sit around drinking iced coffee until we either explode or the world's supply of iced coffee tragically runs out. My stomach can be killer butterfly-free.

But, you know, I'll miss some of it. Like doing my Very Attractive face for the camera when group photos have been going on for waaay too long and I really just want to go get some punch.



Or being with Ellie and Julia, who make it all a lot more fun and a lot less stressful. (Because they tell me it won't really matter in the scheme of things if I faint while walking up to the music stand, or if I terribly embarrass myself by my shoulder pad popping off the violin as I bow. Oh, wait. That already happened. Yesterday.)



It's weird to be finished with Mother's Day recitals. It's a little sad, yet exciting at the same time. So, there you have it.

Hello, Change. How are you today?