This week saw the debut of both girls at their respective schools. Girl1 is doing okay. I seem to remember that she did okay the first week at her very first preschool in Tokyo, too.
Then the second week was a tantrum nightmare.
I’ll hope that doesn’t happen Monday….
And I also am thinking recently about the death of two celebrities who kind of personify different aspects of my life that I often don’t talk about.
You see, I grew up without access to modern pop and rock music until elementary school. Simon and Garfinkle was about as raunchy as it got at my house. It was classical and opera and broadway musicals for the most part.
I have memories of falling asleep during the second act of many an opera. So the passing of Luciano Pavorotti made me sit up and take notice.
He kind of personifies the feelings I have about my childhood and my mother and music and the estrangement I felt from mainstream culture. Here he is with Domingo and Carreras singing “Nessun Dorma” from Puccini’s Turandot.
And that aria is my absolute favoritest tenor aria in the world, and if you think you don’t like opera, just listen to it, once. It’s beautiful and soaring, and you may actually NOT like opera, but I bet you’ll acknowledge the emotion in this.
That brings me to death number two. I’m sure there are blogs all over that can be more eloquent or informative about the impact Madeline L’Engle had on children’s fiction, but let me just add to the voices my own take.
“A Wrinkle in Time” was a revelation to me. I devoured it. I yearned with all fibers of my being to be Meg Murry, the protagonist, to be reaffirmed in the way she was.
Madeline L’Engle brought a little light into my adolescence.
And so I am taking a moment, remembering who I was, who I am, and how things change and pass away.
And I am sad, but more than sadness, I am filled with the fullness of things.