By Georgia Osten
Sometimes it’s the little things that count, things you take for granted. Somewhere along the path of growing up, our parents chose some highlights they insisted upon us learning. Like riding a bicycle, swimming lessons, dancing and/or playing a musical instrument. I’ll never forget learning to ride a bicycle, I don’t remember the tricycle except for the color of mine, it was a deep burgundy red. The bicycle was green. The bicycle and my knees took a beating, especially at the end of the street where I would manage (or not) to turn around and head back toward home.
Swimming lessons were at the Air Force Base, I think about 7 in the morning and the water was freezing cold. You had to swim up a storm to get warm. Putting the kids through swimming lessons wasn’t a piece of cake either, it was like torture. Pollywog to guppy to mackerel, and so on, until they could swim the entire length of the pool.
Ballroom dancing was a challenge for someone without a lot of rhythm, but dancing with my father was the highlight.
Of all the learning experiences I’ve had, learning to read music has been the most dynamic. To be able to sit down to a piece of (easy) music and pick out the tune, press the pedals and sing along is the most enjoyable pastime I can think of. We have a piano in the family, it belongs to the North Carolina kids. Addyson, age 9, and Michael, age 7, both read music and play in recitals. The ability to read music is a treasure. Addyson can’t pass by the piano without tinkling out a tune or two. She plays Pachelbel’s Canon in D, by heart.
My cup runneth over.
[10-2-2017]
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