Uphill Both Ways, But What a View

Recently I was telling my kids (again!) about when I was in Utah Youth Symphony.  It's one of those "I walked to school in the snow and it was uphill both ways" stories, because youth symphony was at 7 am every Saturday morning.  So I usually tell about it when the kids don't want to do something, as in, "You don't want to go to choir practice at 9:00?  That's so late!  Utah Youth was at seven!  I had to leave the house at 6:15.  I had to get up at 6:10!!"  

My kids are savvy and they remind me that it's not a fair comparison because I loved youth symphony.  True, but this post isn't about me.  It's about my parents.  Surely it must have been a sacrifice for my parents to spend all that time driving me to Salt Lake, and so early in the morning.  I asked my mom about it.  I said, "Mom, I don't remember you ever complaining about taking me to Utah Youth in the dark and cold and snow at 6:15 on Saturday mornings."  She quickly replied, "Oh no, that was our joy.  We loved to see you kids doing all that stuff."

My parents were (and are) unfailingly, unflaggingly supportive of everything their kids want to do.  That's why I was able to go from faking every note the first year of youth symphony at age 11 to soloing with them my last year at age 17.  It's because my mom or my dad, every Saturday morning at 6:15, would roll out of bed and happily get me to rehearsal.  I imagine that there were many Saturdays when they would go back home to watch a couple of my brothers' little league games before picking me up from orchestra.  (Before Trajan realized that orchestra was cooler than football and he started coming to Youth Symphony.)  Or, as my dad reminded me, he sometimes took a pillow and blanket and slept in the back of the car until I was through.

It's not so much that they drove us everywhere.  It's that they wanted to drive us.  It's not that they were there.  It's that I knew they wanted to be there.  It's not the money they spent on me, my education, my violin, my leotards, my school clothes.  It's the fact that my mom and dad were happy that they could provide those things for us, and they made sure that was the message they sent.  Whenever I felt guilty about how much I cost my parents in lessons or whatever, my mom would say, "Don't worry!  We'll do this for you and you can do it for your kids."  We were loved, our parents were proud of us, our parents liked us, and we felt very secure.  My biggest fear, really, was that my parents would somehow find out I wasn't as smart or talented as they thought I was!  So far I'm safe, and my brothers are too.  Our parents are still blind to any flaws we have.  They still think we're great and they're very proud of us.  

Thanks, Mom and Dad.  We're proud of you, too.