the ballet

Did I ever tell you about the time I took Youngest to the ballet?
I'm not sure I did.
I've always wanted to take one of them to the ballet and never could afford it (it's very expensive).
But we are fortunate in that our schools are affiliated/have a relationship with two impressive ballet companies - the elementary school kids have instruction from professional dancers a few times a month as do the middle school kids.
Each year, at Christmas time, tickets to performances are raffled off by these two companies and one year Youngest won a pair for a performance.
Of course, because this story involves Youngest it must also involve some medical detail, and this particular December Youngest had a scary looking mole that had to be removed, surgically, from his chest, on the very day of the ballet.
We went to the plastic surgeon, I took a little white pill and held Youngest's hand and he was still and quiet and good and walked out with 38 stitches. I wobbled out with instructions that nothing should come near his chest for 4 weeks. I don't know if you've ever experienced having a surgical procedure with a child but when I am in that situation I tend to feel what my child is feeling.
Off we went, that evening, to the ballet. I was a little shell-shocked but Youngest seemed okay. We drove into town and parked the car and went to the theater.
We sat with another kid and his mom up in the nose-bleed seats and watched.
You know, ballet for an eleven-year-old boy can be a little boring...and an eleven-year-old boy who just had surgery might fall asleep with his head in his mom's lap as Youngest did. And I can only imagine that, at that point, I was on auto-pilot as I did not scoop him up and take him home. I sat and watched. I figured we might not have the chance to be at the ballet again for a long time and as he seemed comfortable we might as well ride it out.
It was a performance dedicated to George Harrison. It was really breathless in its beauty. I cannot even convey how sweet and light and lovely it was....and I've never found a single photo or video of it on the internet.
I was thinking about it tonight because K is downstairs now, playing Isn't It A Pity on his guitar and the rain is falling softly on our roof and I am remembering that night and I am thinking about how long ago it was and how beautiful the city and the ballet were and how poignant the music was.

Tonight, on our way home, K and I stopped to look at Christmas trees.
Remind me to tell you about the people who sell them near my office.


That made MY chest hurt just thinking about it.

Our schools had a yearly grant to take the 4th graders to see the Boston Ballet perform The Nutcracker.
So many parents wanted to chaperone that there was a lottery.
Once, I was lucky enough to get picked.
lagata said…
What a lovely evening, and I can't wait to hear about the Christmas tree people :o)
Anonymous said…
Magical. Simply magical.

Anonymous said…
I can only imagine what day and night that must have been for you but you see, in the end it left you this beautiful memory.
Miz S said…
I am sure that if I had been in your shoes I would have blown off the performance because I am a)lazy and b)a wuss.

And I would have missed something lovely.
Mary said…
There are times when you write about precious memories that I feel I am reading something so evocative it just draws me..
Noelle said…
What a lovely memory. I took my youngest to the Nutcracker for the first time yesterday.

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