Growing up sometimes we would wake up on Sundays to classical music blasting through our intercom system.
We rolled our eyes at our mother…the culprit of that grand idea.
My mother also always claimed that only classical music could be played in her car (during carpools).
More eye rolls.
But that classical music has become part of the fiber of who I am. It moves me and I adore it more than I can say.
I couldn’t help but smile a few Sundays ago when I turned up my Sunday classical mix (we listen to it every single Sunday and have for as long as I can remember) to fill up our house with that beautiful, mellow, peaceful feeling it gives and I caught a small eye roll from one of my children.
I had a little vision right then and there of that daughter of mine as a mother some day, turning on some beautiful music on a Sunday to the eye rolling chagrin of her children, just like her mother did.
Just like her Grandmother did.
And I pictured her little secret smile at those eye-rolls.
That would match mine.
And how the beauty of that music would feed her soul.
That little glimpse couldn’t help but lift me up to make my whole heart smile.