The Christmas prior to my 50th birthday, I arrived home from work one evening to find a cello sitting alone in the front room. I circumnavigated the instrument before my husband (Gordon) informed me he had borrowed the cello from Vincent’s shop over the Christmas break, no pressure but thought I may like to try it out for size.
The cello spend a lonely Christmas in my front room and I can’t recall lifting it or even plucking a string. The cello was returned back to Vincent’s shop in pristine condition.
My 50th birthday came and went and with it the realization my son had left home for greener pastures. A bit more ‘me’ time …but what will I do with it!! Had the Christmas cello left it’s spirit behind?
Take Me to Vincent’s Shop
During my next break from work, I asked Gordon to take me to Vincent’s shop to just check out the cellos. It was a Monday and my heart sank when I read the sign on the door…. CLOSED MONDAYS…. It took me several days before I had the courage to try again.
I climbed the stairs with my internal voice screaming ‘what are you doing’. I blurted out something to Vincent, before I knew it I was driving away with a hired cello in the back seat and a scrap of paper with the names and contact details of two cello teachers.
What happened next is another story.
While I wish it didn’t take me ’til 50 to discover this wonderful and frustrating instrument, at least I did it.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.