Today we had our weekly recorder class where we mostly just rehearsed the songs we are doing for our concert next week (shared with the choir). Even with only half of the eight students there, we managed a really nice rehearsal. There is one little piece I wrote for three recorder parts called "Shabbos." Even though each individual part is very simple, together the parts make for a really nice ensemble sound. Today they hit it. They hit the loveliness, the absolute sublimity that comes from total unison and perfection. Those fleeting glimpses we get of heaven that can appear when we make music together. It was so lovely, and they really got it too. They heard that moment. Lovely. I don't know if we'll hit it at the concert, but I don't think it really matters. They got it, and they understood what making music together can do. I'm a happy lady.
Then... I cuddled way past bedtime with Eli, then Amirah. Avi and Raizel had already fallen asleep during storytime (we started Kathryn Lasky's Lone Wolf tonight). Eli loves to talk about things he's interested in during the right before bed time. This is when you really realize that all those things he's absorbing during the day really stick for him. First he was telling me all about dry ice, and the temperatures on Mars, and how we would have to build a special ecosystem to live there, and how little he would weigh there, and the volcano that's there, and the meteor holes because Mars' atmosphere is much thinner than Earth's, and about how Hashem really did make Earth just right for us to live in. Then he moved on to coral reproduction and how coral is both male and female and they release eggs at night and how they serve as hosts to all kinds of sea life that depend on the coral to survive. He loves to chat right before sleep more than any other part of the day. It's a nice time to hear his thoughts.
Then cuddling with Amirah, who should have already been asleep, but how can I turn down my sweet girl? When it comes to cuddling, anyway. So we snuggled and talked for a little bit, and I tried to fix these moments into my mind so I can draw on them when I'm 12o, please Hashem! Hold onto the vocal inflections of my almost-six-year-old. Trace my almost-eight-year-old's soft profile in my head. Remember as many moments as I can. Such sweetness.