It’s been several months now since I started lessons with Michael. Every week I’d go on a Monday morning for another shot of heaven. In October, only a few weeks later, Moshe’s regular scans showed some metastasised spots of cancer in his lungs, which were surgically removed, along with the lower lobe of his right lung. The following months were quite difficult, as he recovered from the excruciatingly painful procedure, and the aftermath of that, and I had to suspend my lessons. It wasn’t until May that I felt confident and able to return to them.
One morning, I called Mum and invited her to come with me to Edzell House. Without a moment’s hesitation, she got herself ready, and I picked her up on my way there. Our conversation in the car was dominated by memories of those wonderful days of my childhood. She told me stories of how Mr. Spivakovsky would call her, saying things like “Now, please bring Helene a half hour early for each lesson. I want her to spend some time outside in our garden. Her little head must see beauty, and she’ll be calm and relaxed when she comes back inside for the lesson.”
As I turned from St Georges Road into the driveway, I stopped, so Mum could bring her focus back from her reminiscences, and into the now. This was an experience to be present for, and I said to her, “Are you ready? Have a look. Isn’t it just wonderful? It’s all the same as it was!” And she gasped as she drank it all in – the gum tree, the building, driving along the circular drive, and parking our car before walking up the couple of steps to ring the doorbell. Michael answered the door, and after welcoming us in, and acknowledging how her certainly did remember Mum, he directed us to the chairs outside the music room, into which he disappeared to finish up a lesson with another student.
I sat, and watched Mum as she looked around. I enjoyed her wonderment and the pleasure she derived from being there in that hallway, noticing everything. The door to the waiting room was open, and we both walked in, and headed over to the windows to look down at the garden below.
… unfinished, to be continued