Lost photos

As a record of memory, what's good of a photo if I can't find it? All of a sudden, my effort of taking pictures was put in doubt. Have I been wasting time? Has my memory gone so bad, I can't even find the photos? Naaah... I just gave up on searching. They must have been stored in the 4R size box. But I've run out of energy to dig that up. As to taking pictures... if I don't at least try to grab what's left, there would be nothing. Nothing.

However, looking through those old albums helped. The year was probably around 1998. I was still recovering from the accident and was hopeful that I could play the violin again. Now... I'd say that I still haven't given up, but deep down in my heart, I know it's not gonna happen with this crappy shoulder. My violin has been siting on the shelf for years gathering dust. But I can't bring myself to sell it. Am I holding onto empty memories? Or just an impossible dream?

2 musical instruments stole my heart ever since my very first memory of TV orchestra footage. The dancing fingers of a pianist on the keyboard, and the violin bows moving in perfect unison.

Piano was pretty much out of the question. Too expensive. But I missed the one chance when my aunt's family immigrated. They were trying to get rid of their piano. If only I'd said yes. Didn't know why, but I got afraid, and said no. Sigh... (Looking back now, there was probably no way to move that thing up 4 floors through the stair well. Our building was pre-WWII, 4-story high and had no elevator.)

Grade 8, got into the high school's weekend violin program. $5 per lesson. Super cheap, and the school loaned out instruments too. It was fun, and going very well. In fact, so well, I successfully got into to a more formal government program a year later. But the catch was, I had to start from 0 again.

Almost a year later, my parents sent me to Ontario. The violin was put on hold indefinitely. Being able to play the instrument had been my dream, and I long for the day I could start taking lessons again. Meanwhile, I stayed with my cousin's family. Her daughter was learning piano. I managed to steal two grade 3 pieces by ear.

Then, it was my family's turn to immigrate. By the time I settled down and my job was on track, there was the chance to pick up the violin again. The dream finally came true! I was soooo happy! It was also the very first time I bought my own instrument. But again, I had to start from the beginning. That was the third time starting from 0. But it was fine, since it had been a while.

7 months later, the accident.

Why did it have to happen at that time? When my dream was coming true, my life was going well. Who knew everything could change in the blink of an eye?

Where I am today, is not what I want. (T_T) Why do I let it stay this way for this long? I suspect I've given up on myself.