I grew up listening to Opera. On the radio and when my mother would play her records on a Saturday afternoon. I didn’t like it or dislike it, it was just a part of life. Opera was the only thing I saw my mother get really passionate about. She would sing along and cry and sway to the music. She was a 1960’s housewife, who didn’t have friends or hobbies. Her life was given to the idea of family, but the Opera belonged to her. It was a secret window into who she was as a person not a mother or wife.
Before she was married she would get standing room tickets at Lincoln Center. The music initially drew her but she soon learned all the stories, made a friend waiting on line, and would go whenever her favorites were being performed. Once married she stopped going to the Opera. In the late 1980’s the idea of hearing Luciano Pavarotti live inspired her to go back again . She’s gone off and on since then.
Last night I took my mother to see Tosca at Lincoln Center. I liked everything about it, the music, the sets, the costumes the drama, watching the people and being able to bring my mother there. But I didn’t experience it like she did. For her it goes deep. It touches a part of her I’ll probably never know.
I so love this story Maria, I can picture your mother enjoying it so.
What a gift you gave your mom, Maria. Even though your experiences were different, you were together and you could see a fragment of what makes your mom who she is. Lovely.
I loved your blog about taking your Mom to the Opera and your insight to her love and appreciation for it. I was moved by your sensitive writing and touching description of your childhood and her past years too.
A few years before my Mom died she saw something in the paper and told me she would love to see the Lipezaner Stallions so I got us tickets when they came to town and I took her to see them. I was so glad I did as her joy over watching them was magical. She grew up in Fort Dodge, Iowa and they had a riding academy on their farmstead for locals to come out and take trail rides, etc….so she loved horses from childhood and also my grandfather had the working horses in those days also.
Maria, you are a beautiful writer in your own right…I love reading your blogs as much as I love reading Jons.
Thanks for sharing them with us…..Julie
Happy tears! You’re such a wonderful daughter Maria, to have such insight and love for your Mom! Thanks for sharing!
I don’t think my taking my mother to the opera makes me a wonderful daughter, but it was a lovely thing to do together.
Hey Maria, You are so humble. Your Mom is lucky to have this relationship with you. The two of you are a pleasure for me to behold. I never had this.
I agree with Julie.I love reading your blogs as much as jon’s. I always hit your site first. 🙂 (maybe it’s a woman thing.)
I hope you someday consider doing some writing.
Enjoy NY!
Cindy
Thank you Cindy, it might just be a woman thing.
I remember taking my mother to see Madama Butterfly at the Lincoln Theater for her Birthday. We also got to go backstage to see the costume room which was special to me since I’m a seamstress. My Mom passed away a year after. I get a warm feeling when I think about sharing the Opera with her, which she adored.
That sounds like such a special night for both of you Uta. I can relate.
This is such a meaningful story! How many of us believed that being married meant we no longer should have passions other than our husbands and children?!? After my husband got over the initial fear of me being a person passionate about her own life, he rather liked it. It only happened 6 yrs ago when our youngest got married. Annie
I’m so glad to hear it happened Annie!