My Mothers Birthday is today. Always a day of gratitude tinged with sadness at her passing so very long ago. For years I've had a ritual of lighting a candle, sitting quietly with my wife, and then playing Matka Boska. When this piece arrived a few years back, I had no doubt that it was for my Mother, thus the title was foretold.
My Mother was born of Polish immigrants and even though she was born in the US her first language was Polish. As a child when she was upset with one of us she would intone Matka Boska - Blessed Mother, looking to her faith to guide her in whatever challenge she was facing.
I offered more than my share of challenges, and like the Blessed Mother that she was, she always accepted me, nurtured me, and loved me. And she bought me my first guitar. So tonight tired but grateful, I lit my candle. My playing was full of imperfections - just like me. I could sense her smile and feel her love, and I just continued to play the piece which was perfect in its' imperfections.
Perfectly beautiful. Thank you, Patrick.
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