Chapter 5 - AMELIA’S MOTHER
Amelia’s mother, Grace, had been a violinist.
Not famous.
Good.
Very good.
She played professionally with regional orchestras and taught children who could not afford private lessons.
When we met, she told me the Bellini family funded too much marble and not enough teachers.
I married her anyway.
She died of leukemia when Amelia was two.
The little violin Lucinda broke had been Grace’s last birthday gift to our daughter.
A one-eighth-size instrument.
Handmade by a small workshop.
Financial value:
Maybe $1,600.
Emotional value:
Unmeasurable.
When the luthier examined the pieces, he said the body could not be restored safely for performance.
He could preserve some wood.
Amelia listened.
Then asked:
“Can it still be mine?”
“Yes.”
That was all she wanted.
We placed the broken pieces in a case.
No shrine.
May you like
No destruction.
Not yet.
