And so today’s moment of happiness despite the news.
In May of 2023, I started piano lessons. It was something I always wanted to do. Most of the music I listen to, the various bands and such, are heavy on the piano. My brother plays the organ, and we had the mighty Hammond in our house, preceded by the not-so-mighty Wurlitzer, but I just wasn’t interested in the sounds that came out of the organ. I loved the piano.
I’ve had a piano in my house since the summer of 2018. For a while, I played with the idea of getting a player piano, so that I could have piano music in my house at the tap of a button. But I wanted to feel the music beneath my fingers. I wanted to create it. When I got the piano, Olivia, my daughter, was a few months shy of 18 years old. But her first grade teacher was looking for a home for her beloved piano, so she could change her music room into a nursery for her grandkids. The connection with this teacher went back even further than Olivia – the teacher’s son was my son Andy’s best friend for many years, from elementary school on. Andy is fourteen years older than Olivia. When I saw that this lovely teacher would give her piano away to anyone who would haul it, I felt like it was just calling my name. So I arranged for movers, and up into the living room, the piano came. Karla not only sent the piano, but she asked me about the colors in my house, and the piano arrived with a handmade bench cover and runner for the top.
And so there it sat, from 2018 to 2023. I touched the keys now and then, playing what I remembered of Heart & Soul. But otherwise, it was silent.
And then…I finally became brave and began lessons. I played from May to January, and then there was Michael’s accident.
And so I stopped. There was too much going on. And now…I’m back. My piano teacher, Eileen, and the staff at White House of Music, have been huge supports during this time. When I could come, I was welcomed and hugged. When I couldn’t, I was excused with compassion and offered hope and prayers.
Michael’s urn sits on top of the piano, and I apologize to him every time I sit down to practice. I smile whenever I picture him laughing and pretending to put his hands over his ears.
I practice mostly every day, after lunch. I have my morning clients, I eat lunch with a good book, and then I sit at the piano before I return to my office to write. I’d gotten to a point in my regular music book where the music was getting quite difficult (for me). Well, really, I don’t know how difficult it was, but my brain simply wasn’t having it. It was like I was so full of hard stuff to deal with, that I just couldn’t handle dealing with hard music too. I needed something that wasn’t work, that wasn’t hard, that I could enjoy. When I found myself crying at the keyboard, I knew it was time to say something to my teacher.
And so, at least for the month of December, we have stepped backwards. I’m playing in a Christmas book that is a lower level than my regular book. And while the songs are easy, and not a challenge at all, I am enjoying myself again. I’m making music that I can recognize. And that isn’t turning my head inside out and my fingers into knots. This week, I’m playing Oh Come All Ye Faithful, Go Tell It On The Mountain, The First Noel, and Up On The Housetop.
I am having some trouble with Up On The Housetop. The bass clef is killing me. I just don’t understand the thought behind creating two musical staffs, one called Treble and one called Bass, with identical-looking notes, but different names. Ridiculous.
When I started playing, back in 2023, all the animals would leave the room. At that point, it was Ursula, our dog, and Muse and Edgar, our cats. I’d sit down to an audience, and when I finished and turned around, the room was empty.
During this last year, both Edgar and Muse have passed on. So now there are Ursula, Oliver, and Cleocatra. But still…an empty room when I’ve finished playing.
Then…Cleo stayed. She curled on the floor and looked at me with open adoration, despite the noise I was making. And a few times, she’s joined me on the bench.
Then Ursula began to stay.
And now today. After playing the first three Christmas carols more or less flawlessly, I stumbled and swore my way through Up On The Housetop. Damn reindeer. Ho ho ho. Did you know that “Up on the housetop, reindeer pause,” is p-a-u-s-e? As in, they wait? I always thought it was reindeer paws. Which doesn’t make sense, I guess. Reindeer have hooves. So I may not have learned to play the song, but I’ve learned that.
I finished, sighed, apologized again to Michael, swore that after my lesson this week, I will never play this song again, and then spun around on the bench. And there they were.
All three animals. Ursula on the floor, Oliver on the loveseat, Cleo on the couch. All eyes open, all staring at me.
“Wow,” I said. “I did okay?”
Ursula came and rested her concrete head on my lap.
This could be applause. Or it could be a silent, rolled-eye appeal to please stop.
But I’ll take it as applause. I laughed and hugged the dog.
Lessons are on Thursday. Let’s hope I can play it without swearing by then.
And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.
