Opera
If you want a concise description of the high points of Opera...not the browser, but the "the fusion of words and music" check out Paul Frankenstein. Clear and direct...unlike the rest of this post...
His entry became a stepping stone to memories of my mother, Joanne and daughter, Jessica. Both were born on the same day, but thankfully, many years apart.
With the announcement of my first born child my mother, though dying of cancer, vowed Jessica would share her birthday -- about 2 weeks earlier than predicted. My mother's doctors swore she wouldn't live to see the birth of her granddaughter.
She proved them wrong. She had either lost the ability or will to speak by Jessica's birth. Yet, in the few short weeks she had left, mom expressed herself well as she held Jessica without words but with a delighted smile.
Jessica didn't grow up hearing the opera and jazz that was the soundtrack of my childhood home. Yet, one night when she was about four, we happened upon a telecast of the first opera in Wagner's Ring Cycle. Jessica insisted we stop and as her bedtime approached pleaded to stay for that night's finish. Not just that night but for the next three nights she eagerly watched the cycle unfold.
I couldn't get from her a good answer on why she was watching. She had, at best, an idea of what only one or two characters represented. Yet, she stayed attentive for every act.
No, she didn't grow up to be another Maria Callas, but she does enjoy music and plays three instruments. (A talent that skipped my generation, but was in full force with her grandmother.) Jessica never has attended or watched another full opera. I doubt she remembers those four nights.
I'm not really one to believe in afterlife or such, but I wonder what confluence of thoughts and desires led her those nights to something her grandmother loved so much?
