When I was in the 4th grade, I tried to learn how to play the flute. We lived in Lake Tahoe, California at the time and the winters were very cold. I was so bad at playing the flute that my mom sent me outside to practice. I ended up quitting. In high school, I took a keyboard class. I learned how to play twinkle twinkle little star and green sleeves. My real love though is for singing. I am by far no American Idol, but I can hold my own. I enjoy singing in a choir. I still remember my first solo. I sang The Rose. I guess this kind of dates me doesn't it? Anyway, life kind of has it's own music. The swooshing sound of the treadmill, the little boy in the back seat who told me there were 3 Jacobs in his classroom. One with brown hair and two will yellow hair. Then by his side a red hair baby sucking her pacifier. The sizzling and cracking sound of schnitzel in the pan as I make lunch for my husband. The crinkling of paper as my mother cuts out Addy's blessing gown made from the fabric of my wedding dress. Sometimes the noise can be overwhelming; especially, since I grew up an only child and my house was pretty quiet. I wouldn't trade all this noise or music for anything. We lost two friends this week. One to cancer and another to an unexpected death for what should have been a routine surgery. One had children that just left for college and the other had small children still at home. A reminder that we should never take anything for granted.