My pulse (脉搏) quickened as my feet took me closer to the door. My heart beat1 . What are you doing? You're fifty! My thoughts2 with my kids' words "Do something for yourself, Mom. " Even so, it was as if I had no3 over my feet.
My first drum 4 came. I took a seat and tried to 5 my breath. I was nervous, thinking that the teacher would reject me.
"Stephanie? I'm Mike, the drum teacher," an old man said. Mike had a good6 . Not only did he say I was 7 enough to play the drums, but also praised me for how well I 8 the sticks. My passion9 .
My daughter used to10 that I was always working, with no time for them. But now I finally sit down with them, talking a lot after I practice11 . As weeks turned into months of playing, I became more and more12 . Mike convinced me to play at a concert.
How many times have I watched13 as my kids went in front of audiences? Soon, it would be my14 . I was going over what I needed to play when Mike made the15 ,"Tonight Stephanie will be on the drums for her first time. "
I held my sticks in hands and sped up; Mike nodded at me. I did it!
