Bittersweet

Today is Axel's birthday.

It's also Mother's day.

My first.

Not his.

The music bar above is from Vltava, one of a set of six symphonic poems 

entitled "Má vlast" by the Czech composer Bedřich Smetana.

It is an amazingly beautiful and touching piece of music.

Nearly everytime we hear it Axel describes to me what the music portrays. 

I've never managed to capture it in his words but found this excerpt on Wikipedia.

The composition describes the course of the Vltava, starting from the two small springs, the Cold and Warm Vltava, to the unification of both streams into a single current, the course of the Vltava through woods and meadows, through landscapes where a farmer's wedding is celebrated, the round dance of the mermaids in the night's moonshine: on the nearby rocks loom proud castles, palaces and ruins aloft. The Vltava swirls into the St John's Rapids; then it widens and flows toward Prague, past the Vyšehrad, and then majestically vanishes into the distance, ending at the Labe (or Elbe, in German).

It's not short but you really should listen to it. Just close your eyes and let yourself go.

Trust me, it's worth it.

This music transports me every time.

I feel my heart quicken at the rapids,

my body sways with the breeze,

I dance at that farmer's wedding.

~

It reminds me of our journey through life.

Of the times and things that make our hearts beat faster, that make us run.

What makes us stop, stand still and listen.

What makes us yearn - even for the bittersweet.

We are spending the day together,
just the two of us.

Thinking about our two.

There will be tears I am sure,
but there will also be laughter.

There always is, along with a bunch of hugs.

A smootch or two or three or more!

And maybe even some dancing, who knows?

Of course there will be cake ...

the bestest yummiest moisty carrot cake ever!

It's his favorite.

~

Happy Mother's Day to you all.

For after all we have all mothered someone sometime somewhere.

From the children who look up to us,
to the brothers who chide us.

At one time we have all given of our souls as a mother would.

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