The house was eerily quiet for a bit this morning. The boys at school, Senior out trimming crape myrtles at one of our commercial accounts. I did laundry, dusted, and vacuumed. Then downloaded a free scene copy of Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" , so I can play it.
Scene copy just means that since it is a ballet, instead of downloading the entire thing, I chose a scene..this particular piece is the most popular and recognizable- It was in the opening ceremony for the olympics and skated to by the Russian ice dancing team.
It felt good to stretch my fingers across the ivory of the keyboard. My piano was actually purchased for my mother when I was four. As soon as I sat down on her bench, I took to it. So I was enrolled in lessons, my fate was sealed. For almost 15 years I was chained to its legs, and practiced upwards of 2 hours a day. If I stopped, you would hear my mother yell from the kitchen: " I can't hear youuuuuuuu !!!! "
My teacher was the best, but yet the hardest. Some times while playing I can still hear the tapping of her pencil as she would keep the beat with me. My music would be littered with all her red marks from the mistakes I made.
I will never forget the day I told my parents I wanted to quit. I was 18, and could not do it anymore. I did not have the heart for it. My mother, being the way that only my mother could be gave me a bill: 15 years of lessons, multiplied by $45.00 a month. A total of $8100.00 just on lessons, not included was the cost of sheet music. At the time she was dead serious. Of course I never paid it.
As I got older, I had a deeper appreciation for my musical ability, and began to miss my piano. The piano was my mothers.For years and years I asked to move it in to my home but she would never allow me to have it. If I wanted to play, I had to do it at their house, where I would be constantly reminded of the money they spent.
Finally came the day, and only after Senior and I had kids, and moved into our current home that I was allowed to have the piano. My mother was finally able to part with it, she never learned to play and all it had done was sit in their living room taking up space.
So , now it sits in my home. Several times during the week I sit down and play. I have a bag full of all my old sheet music, It is yellowing and tattered, but those red marks still there and serve as a reminder. I stare at it and wonder how I ever mastered its difficulty level. There was a time when I had it all memorized, and played in contests and concerts... Nowadays I do good to remember what all those notes are. But yet, I do not get discouraged and work my way through it..trying ever so patiently to remember and work to build up my confidence. To make it more enjoyable I sit with the boys and try to teach them... Some days though that task is easier said then done.
- JUGM
