Rising Above Disease Sharing the Music in Me

Years ago a famed author told me, "Those who can do and those who can't teach." I've wrestled with my profession ever since, feeling that teaching voice and piano is less respectable than finishing a book or singing through out the globe. I still hope to publish my words and sing more than I do now, but for the past ten years, teaching private lessons has done more than just pay the bills, it's kept me going. 

I saw it more clearly this spring - after the ankle reconstruction. Time with students distracted me from pain and made me feel useful even on the slowest of days. And then, in late April, I got an invitation to an event at Pebblebrook High School, a well respected school of performing arts close to home. One of my students, a senior at the school, graduated in the top 5% of her class. The top students were asked to write a speech, thanking two teachers who have impacted their lives over the years. And Meredith chose me. 

Not only did I get to listen as she read kind words about our time together...

But I even came home with a certificate! 

Thanks, Meredith, for a sweet time, indeed.

I was out late that evening and again two days later when Don and I met with a friend in need. So by the time I drove to Athens with Sam on Mother's Day weekend to pick up Nathan from school, my legs were wearing down. Heavy, wobbly steps carried me through his dorm as we packed his stuff and loaded it in the car. We crashed in a hotel room a few hours later so Nathan could finish church commitments before leaving for the summer. 

Sam claims Nathan and I snore in harmony.

Sam, Me, and Nathan (who is working towards a degree in choral music education at UGA)

Nathan not only had to play hand bells Sunday morning, he agreed to sing at an evening event as well. But as a Mother's Day gift to me, the three of us ended up singing an arrangement we rehearsed that afternoon of It Is Well with My Soul at the concert that night. I don't know when we'll sing together again. So I relished this moment with my young men who wouldn't even sing in front of me years ago.

Proof from far away...

And up close.

I held onto walls and worked hard for balance as we left the church, but my heart was bursting with all kinds of cool mom feelings.

Monday proved a day of survival. But by mid week I thought I was getting back to my odd normal. When I took a step after teaching three hours on Wednesday, however, something popped in my right ankle. I'm still waiting for the results of a stat MRI. But last night some of my students who can't attend our end of the year recital gathered at our store to sing. The ankle was tired. Every step took effort. But my students did such a good job I had a hard time going to sleep.

I may need another surgery; may be hobbling for months. But these recent music memories lift me above the disease and make me thankful for the days I've spent in a small practice room, helping others connect to the music in their own souls.

For now, that's more than enough.