Hey, Sara-Jane,


What's up?& Great post! I love that kind of stuff.


Actions&and consequences? I've my own TWO LAWS I made sure both daughters understand. If you'd ever meet 'em, all you do us hold up index finger, then middle finger, and by the time you finish making that "v", both will say: "Actions have consequences. People make choices."& Those are the only two things in life I know to be true--absoutely so. After that, all bets are off. The older I get, all I "learning" is that I don't "know" anything.


And that's been the best part of having kids, or as Gallagher use to say, "Seeing the world their 'new' eyes."


The "teacher" I was referring to, of course, was myself. As is my style, I'm trying to hard and expecting more from myself than I would others. But it is SO much fun.


As to why this is important? Two "stories."


1) Yes, my mom played. Beautifully. That old Nazarene, gospel-church style. I used to ask her to teach me. There was never enough "time."


2) My dad had only ONE truly "personal" wish in life. Everything else was for his family. Just ONE thing he wanted only for himself. A pool table. Ex-Nave, WWII, man could play a mean game of pool.& Went to his grave never, ever having that pool table.


So, on that innermost "personal" level (meaning irrespective of the needs of others), there are only two such things in my life I knew I had to do or I'd die with regrets for leaving them undone. First, I wanted the skills and abilities of a Black Belt in Karate. Did that way back in '76. Second--play piano.


Relationship with my mom? Wow. That's the stuff of volumes. (She died a few years ago and don't worry about your comments, okay? Not a problem.) I'll sum it up this way: She taught to be independent and self-reliant. I am. So much so that for the last ten years of her life, she and I never spoke. (Told you, LONG story.)


So it's like this: When I think of my "mom" as a parent, she was one of the best. That's when I talk about my "mom." As a person, I wouldn't have wanted to be in the same room with her. That's when I talk about "Francis" (that was her name).


So, "Francis" never taught me to play, but "mom" would've, I know, had it ever just kinda worked out.


Okay, that's enough for now don't you think? (I can hear the groans when people read this: "Is he ever going to shut up?")


Rand