I’ve joined the #100happydays challenge. Daily, for 100 days, I will post something that makes me happy. This morning before school, my oldest daughter Sierra played some songs on the piano, one of which is a beautiful song by Brian Crain. She has a light, expressive touch. I stopped and listened, my heart exulting in her grace and artistry.
When I was a young girl, I wanted to play the piano and took lessons from a teacher at school. I don’t remember how the teacher looked like, but I remember that the piano was this humongous instrument up on a platform. After a lesson or two, I never went back. Most likely because we couldn’t afford it, or it was hard to sustain interest because we had no piano at home; I don’t know.
So when my children were old enough to play the piano, I had money saved up from a “hunting fund” that my husband and I gave ourselves. I bought the piano we still play on today. Was that really nine years ago?
My daughter is 18 now, but once upon a time, she was a piano novice, my first child to learn on an instrument that I’ve always loved though never mastered. I wanted to give them something I never had – piano lessons and musical opportunities.
As I look at our Wurlitzer, a beautiful piano that is really quite modest compared to other pianos, I remember the past years like a movie of still shots: my children, not even quite reaching the pedals, plunking away on their simple primers, afternoons of practice, my oldest’s arm in a cast and still playing.
After a while, sports and life took over their lives and the older ones quit lessons. But they still play. The two oldest are ward organists. My son improvises chords. It’s a wonderful gift, but I think what makes me happy most is when they play the piano at home, just for their – and my – sheer enjoyment.
***
In a few weeks, Sierra will be submitting her papers for an LDS church mission. In the fall, she will leave our home to serve the Lord. I will miss her piano music. I will miss the knowing glances we exchange when we both hear and exult over beautiful music. I will miss her sensitivity and exuberance for life. She’ll be blessing others lives’ with those gifts instead. I’m happy in the knowledge that, as she continues on in life, the memories of her music and childhood can play in my mind and heart over and over, like a cherished song.
Follow