Firsts and Lasts

Last: My last day of work was on Thursday. It was probably the best day I've had at work, and one of the longest. But...it is over now! I am now retired, and fairly well-off financially. Let's just keep our fingers crossed that I continue picking up babysitting jobs; otherwise, my savings will diminish significantly this year.

First: It isn't a total first, but it does feel like it. My dad gave me a compliment today. He went out of his way to seek me out and made a point of telling me that he thought I was a pretty good pianist. Now, this is huge for my dad. Typically, I'll accept things like, "That piece seems kind of hard" as a compliment; I interpret that to mean I'm fairly advanced. No, this time, he even said, "I just wanted to compliment you." He told me I was good at chipping away for a long time at things that were really important to me, when it is easier for him to look at the big picture (concert pianist vs. daughter who takes lessons; no comparison). But I think what he meant to say was that he is proud of me for sticking with it so long and coming this far.

I gave him a really big hug and a really big thank you. This is a sort of sore spot for me. Since I was young, I would listen to my daddy play the piano and I wanted to be able to do that. (I still can't; he plays by ear. But that's not the point.) And when I started to take lessons, when I began plugging away, I guess I expected him to be proud. I think he was; I think he's always been proud of me. But it is my daddy's habit to offer constructive criticism (which I have never been able to take well) and not praise. I wanted to hear how good I sounded. I wanted to be told that I had potential, and I wanted someone to recognize how much work I put into it and how much progress I made.

I have been taking lessons now for seven years (wow...it doesn't feel like it's been that long). I stuck with it because I love it. My piano teacher told me that I picked it up pretty quick and was improving rapidly. My mom handed out compliments like peppermints. My grandparents told me to stick with it, to keep practicing. And by comparison, my dad's silence felt like disapproval.

So I learned to give myself pats on the back as I went. I was proud of me. I learned to look at where I've been, where I've come from, and find satisfaction in the fruit of my labor. I learned to look ahead at where I could be one day; to dream and hope and aim for new heights; to believe that it is possible to go anywhere. This gave the present meaning; it gave the song I was currently plodding away at a purpose.

Today, I stood on an outcropping and looked down to the valley. I saw how far I had come. Then I lifted my eyes to the hazy mountain top, snowy and majestic, ethereal and distant. I saw where I could be. Then I turned my focus back to where I am now, on the rock face in front of me and the solid ground beneath my feet, and carefully took my next step.

And I take it one day at a time.

A Last First: Monday will be the last time I experience the dreaded, long-anticipated, first day of school. I finished all my summer work earlier this afternoon. (I am such a bad procrastinator). I am not looking forward to Monday. At the same time, I want to launch myself into the new year, energetic and enthusiastic, and blaze through it with flying colors! So...we'll see. ;)