The piano lady with a big heart

Just recently I was talking to a friend who shared a common interest in playing the piano. When the subject came up, I wasn't exactly ready to hear what her next words were.

I asked her how my teacher was doing, since she has a history of being ill quite often, and what came next absolutely blew my mind. She told me that days after summer vacation started, she passed away.

Honestly, I was extremely devastated. I held back the tears, and I tried to convince myself that all this was just a rumor, and that everything was going to be alright, after all, sometimes rumors in Fallon could be misconstrued. So I did what every one else does: Look it up. And scrolling through the results, I found it to be true. My head felt extremely dizzy as the thoughts just whirled around my head. I felt guilty, because something in my heart told me to go back to her one last time before vacation started. I even wanted to go back to taking lessons, although the only thing holding me back was her present incline and decline of her health, and I didn't want her to stress herself out.

Besides, she was a strong person. She went through pretty much anything possible and still kept a smile on her face. And I'm going to miss seeing that smile every week.

I started playing piano around the 5th grade after being inspired to use the piano in the house that was steadily collecting a layer of dust after months of abandonment after my sister left for college. I got up and polished the beautiful dark wood, and I dusted each key until it was Ivory-white again.
Then we set out looking for different piano teachers, from downtown to even looking for ads in the newspaper, then out of the blue, we went back to the dance studio and found a number for a piano teacher for a reasonable price. With my breath held in, we dialed her number and immediately she answered, welcoming us with an open greeting.

Upon arriving for my first lesson, I walked up the wooden red railings and knocked on the white door.

When the door opened I saw an old lady with red hair, dressed up in her finest clothes, from glimmering rings to jeweled necklaces, in her small wheelchair. And immediately, I knew she was THE piano teacher for me.

Every practice, we had ranging discussions from school, achievements, politics, philosophy, music, home decorating, to even our personal lives. Her many stories of her childhood amused me, and there were even some moments where I'd wonder what happened to her husband? Does she ever feel alone? Did she ever have a first love? So many things that I wanted to know. To me, old people have many things to tell you, a lifetime of stories that must be heard.

There was one day though, that happened to stand out the most for me. When I entered and situated myself in front of the grand piano, I noticed a bouquet of brightly colored flowers on the tea table, along with a picture of a laughing man around 70 years old placed almost ceremoniously by the vase. I asked her who he was, and immediately her eyes sparkled and her lips turned to a bright smile. He was one of her great friends, who recently became a widower, and decided to visit her and recollect on their shared memories they had. She told me how extravagant their date was, how they were both lost in conversation, and immersed in each other. This compelled me to think that she loved him to an extent. Just seeing her morph into a schoolgirl just babbling about her crush made me realize that love never ceases because of age. And I just sat there, truly in awe of what I saw, because as much as I learned from her, this probably would be one of the most defining lessons she would have ever taught me.

In the end, she was one of the major figures in my life. She believed in me, and she believed in music. She put her heart and soul into teaching, and the emotion she put in all the pieces of music she played was fueled with vehemence.

I'm going to miss you Ms. Ricks. Thank you for everything.

Apples and textbooks

Where does the time go? First you're walking through a playground, happily swinging from a monkey bar and giving your teachers a bright red apple that gleamed in the light that it seemed sort of fake. Then you're off into a world filled with the pressure to be perfect that gleamed with the worry of friends and your reputation. Afterwards, you're in this weird awkward stage where you don't know where you are, but you have a sense of who you are. And you try to sift through all the worries and pressures to really find the distinct person you lead in yourself.

Now, I'm back in school starting Sophomore year, and I'm asking myself... Where did the time go? Honestly life feels like it's whizzing right in front of my eyes, and there's no way of clutching it to make it pause for just a little bit. Relishing in the supposed good days is what I really wish to do, it's not like you're going to get these memories back again.

So what happens now? I believe that this year will be funner than last year. As I've stated before, I made some goals for myself, and I plan to fulfill them to the best of my ability, and even go beyond. Actually, I have a pretty positive outlook on what is to happen soon.

Taking an AP course as a Sophomore? I think yes.

Varsity Cheerleading? For sure.

Sprinter, and hopefully distance running for track? I'm more than obliged.

Every class an honors class? I'm thinking of Universities, baby!

And everything in between, well that's all just committed to what will become my memories.

For now, live up each football game, and relish in the rays of the remaining heat that lingers in the last days of summer.

Summer's dusk turns to twilight

As summer's beginning turns to an ending, I start to remember everything that has happened over the course of the three months filled with beaches and sunsets rather than school textbooks and teachers.

This recollection submerges me to a state of nostalgia, yearning to come back those days where I felt the most happiness in my heart, and those days where everything negative seemed to disappear out of the blue.

Everything that has happened brought me back home with a new sense of perspective. Honestly, I found that old incentive that once sparked inside me to really tackle on everything with a head held high, but with feet planted firmly on the ground.

I've spent countless nights sitting outside either listening to the silence, or watching the moon glimmer out in the sea, sorting out everything in my mind and just thinking about most of what I want my priorities to be. There's also just being around people who have been huge figures in my life and learning from them about myself and more of whats to come in the future. Learning from other's experiences made me realize more and more of the hidden answer under the mass confusion that clenched on me for such a long time.

Then there's my nephew, even from a standpoint of a baby, he inspired me to look onward and not backwards. Whenever I felt down, I'd look to him to see his big round eyes smiling at me. For some reason, his innocence and wonderment is all I needed. Maybe it's because he's still looking at the world with brand-new eyes, and everything new captures his amazement. And with that, he gave me the motive to really look onward at everything and admire it's beauty, for the future is the brightest treasure that one could wait for.

Each and every day that passed was more of an adventure than one can think of. Crashing against the tide on a boat, to spending hour upon hour playing with my nephew, to even just laughing really loud at a bookstore. Everything that happened is equally amazing to me.

Now since fall is beginning, and school is starting, I've made the goal to do everything with all my might, and find a smile in everything to continue onward to wherever I need to go.

Sometimes the future is a big mystery

Most times we believe that we're in control of our futures, or that we have some sort of idea/outlook of what we actually want in life. But, what if there was a great divide in what we see? We see ourselves looking past a split future where one thing lies here, and another over there, and yet we can't control what happens. There are instances that actually exist like this, I kid you not. But what exactly do you do? Honestly, for me I believed sitting around and letting things fall into place would be the exact answer to the questions I had. Personally, I'm not the type who goes off asking questions that may be misinterpreted to a demeaning extent, it's just not in my nature. (People often mistake this quality of mine to be shy... Honestly I couldn't agree more.)

Sitting around really doesn't cut it for me, because I'd like it if the answer came sooner than later. Yet, it's something a lot of people resort to.

But whatever happens, we have to accept the better of it, right?

It's just accepting the temporary oblivion is what I'd consider harsh. Why can't answers come easier than pulling teeth or waiting grueling months. Of course it's life and we have to carry on with it, rather than dawdle around like there's no better purpose than finding the right path.