Jane had her last violin lesson this week. Big lump in my throat as I watched her get out of the car and walk up to Diane's porch. When you have a teacher you meet with every week for twelve years straight, it's incredibly hard to see it finally come to an end. As Jane and I were driving home a couple of weeks ago, she said that Diane is the only person, the only woman, outside of family that she feels such closeness to. That she truly loves. Diane has been more, much more, than a violin teacher. She's been a mother, a mentor, and a friend. She never intimidated, used force or criticism in her teaching. Never did I see her show even a hint of frustration, impatience, or irritation. It was all about loving and inspiring. There couldn't have been a better teacher for our daughter. For that, we are so grateful.
For the last year, she's been working towards this night. Her very own recital. She's come such a long way from that 5 year old kindergartner playing that never ending squeaky Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Now here she is, almost 18, ready to graduate from high school and getting set to spread her wings and fly.
Tonight was a culmination celebration. She played solo, almost all her pieces memorized, for an hour. A little miracle when she didn't even pick up her violin all summer. (Because of her accident.)
Surrounded with supportive schoolmates, teachers, neighbors, friends, and family. Tears, smiles, applause, hugs, kisses, flowers, treats, talk...
An evening full of love. An evening to cherish. Hearts full.