The Violin Player

The violin player

 

My grandfather asked his children, "Who would like to learn to play a musical instrument?" As an immigrant farmer, he wanted to give his children an opportunity he did not have.

My mother, the youngest of seven, asked to play the violin.

My grandfather bought her lessons and a violin.

Though she never learned to master the violin.

The violin followed my mom as she grew up, married, and had children. As a child, I loved taking a chair into the hallway closet and peeking into the violin case where it hid. If my mother weren't at home, I would take it down and admire it. I never wanted to play it. Admiring its form was satisfying.

As the years went by, I snuck into the closet for a peek at the violin became less; it was as if a generation coming and going from one country to another sang from that silent instrument.

The young violin player

Then many Christmas' ago, when I went back to visit my mom, I took something from the hallway closet and noticed the violin wasn't in its place. I assumed my mom finally took it out of hiding and used it as a decorative form somewhere in the house. But no, oh no!

When I asked my mom where the violin was, she flippantly said, "I sold it."

"What?! When? To whom?" My mom said she couldn't remember. It had been a while ago.

Flustered. Frustrated. Sad described how I felt. Though I understood that Mom didn't mean malice, she was getting rid of things she felt nobody wanted or needed. How could she know I had admired it since I stole peeks?

When you are an antique dealer, you cannot be too sentimental. You have to love to sell more than you love to keep. Though my mom tops the cake of letting go, she sold her violin.

That is what I get for not saying I wanted it.

Violin

Later, when I visited my friend Shelley, I told her about the violin and how sad I was. Shelley had a funny look when she said she knew who had bought my mother's violin.

Shelley told me her mother collected and used old violins to decorate her home. Shelley told her husband Eric the story, and Eric went to Caroline's house (Shelley's mom) to tell her the violin story.

Caroline gave me my mom's violin.

Thank you, Caroline, for your generosity. Thank you, Eric, for relaying the message. Thank you, Shelley, for remembering and telling me. Thank you, Mom, for giving me the brocante bug and understanding the need to let things go. Thank you, Vo Leonardo, for encouraging my mother to play such an elegant instrument.

And thank you, violin, for your charming hold on me.



Comments

12 responses to “The Violin Player”

  1. I love this My Grandson plays the violin
    This passage is a precious one
    I am glad you have it now
    Love Jeanne

  2. Kathie B

    I hope someone plays this violin again, restoring its voice.

  3. Mardawg

    Please post a photo of it!
    _____
    The Next time I am home I will xx

  4. Diane Belforte Lewis

    What a story! I’m so glad you got it back

  5. Jennifer Phillipps

    Well that is a story with a happy ending. Nice to know you can now admire it any time you like! Cheers, Jennie NZ

  6. Beautiful story, dear Corey, as always. Bless you for sharing and making me smile. I am so happy you have your beloved violin. It is right where it belongs. 💕

  7. This is such a beautiful story!!! Maybe sweet Olivia is the little girl who is destined to help the violin find its heartstrings. ps..I play the violin (or fiddle depending on my mood:)

  8. That is a wondrous story!

  9. Teddee Grace

    I’m so glad you got it back! Some things hold so many memories and feelings, you really can’t let them go…and if it’s in good shape or can be restored, perhaps Gabriel can learn to play it!

  10. What a lovely story! I sense the Lord’s touch.

  11. Debby Holt

    Well, that’s a beautiful story of grace and serendipity. I think we can miss so much in our relationships when we do not speak our thoughts, desires, questions, love . . I’m getting better about speaking up. I miss having my mother and grandmothers here to ask them questions about their lives as women before I knew them. In my older age I want to know more about them. My mother passed away 20 years ago at age 72 so there was a lot we never got to talk about. Corey, I love reading about you and your mother’s relationship.

  12. marilyn

    Wow! I does so much to share these stories and to tell others what you love too.
    My grandfather had a set of Haviland china that I loved. In fact, the whole family loved it. No one in the family ever let my step mother know they loved it except for me. So when she was finished using it she gave it to me. Others in the family were so sad they didn’t get it. I just reminded them they needed to let others know and speak up. Now it happily resides in my china cupboard and we use it for special family events. It came to the right place in the end.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *