Wednesday, Feb. 02, 2005
Missing the Ivories
My favorite time to spend with Adam everyday is late at night when we are getting ready for bed. It's always when we have the best chats about love, friendship and life in general. I like kicking back at the end of the day with my boyfriend. Last night we were doing just that, when he decided that he wanted to play the guitar. He loves playing it, but rarely does because we're either busy, tired or he just doesn't remember it's there.
He started strumming some cords and then played some songs that he knew. Often times while he's playing he tells me to name a song or an artist and then he tries to play it. Last night I requested Silverchair. 'Miss You Love' was a little too tough to play since he doesn't really know that song very well, but 'Anna's Song' sounded really good. Silverchair is a band that I love, but never listen to. I don't own any of their cd's, never think to download their songs and rarely do I hear their music on the radio.
While he was trying to decipher the chords to 'Miss You Love', he asked me if I knew the chords (I didn't). He mentioned that he'd like to learn how to play the piano because he said that if you can play one, then the other is easy to learn. Erik, one of his college buddies taught him a 'C' chord, and a few other things but he doesn't know near enough to play a song yet.
When he started talking about the piano, my mind started to wander. I thought about all those years that I took piano lessons....
A friend of my family started giving me lessons when I was in second or third grade (I can't remember which). Like most little girls, I had taken ballet for a short time, gymnastics, etc. Piano was the next thing I thought of I guess. After I had learned the basics, I had the potential of being good but the lady giving me the lessons wasn't the best teacher so my mother called another piano teacher in the area and signed myself, as well as my sister up for lessons. We went every Thursday from the time I was in fourth grade until the time I was in ninth grade.
My new teacher was old and church-going, but an amazing pianist. It was really fascinating how much I learned and how much better my playing had gotten just after a few lessons from her.
Most of the songs that I played were hymns. She had my sister and I play duets with each other and sometimes other children. We went to recitals and performed at churches too. I can remember a specific time when I played the song 'To God Be the Glory' exceptionally well at a church and she gave me $5.00 afterwards. She told me that she only does that for a few select students. I was so proud that day.
Ony my own I learned how to play Billy Joel's 'Piano Man' and 'The Entertainer', 'Dust In the Wind' by Kansas, and 'Fur Elisse'; just to name a few.
Megan (my sister) and I had to stop taking lessons because my mom got pregnant with my younger sister and didn't feel she'd have the time or energy to take us to lessons every week. Not to mention that the cost of having a new baby is very expensive.
There were so many times when I was still taking lessons that I wanted to quit. Sometimes I'd want to quit because I thought that practicing took up too much of my time. Other times I'd want to quit were when I didn't practice and I had a lesson. I hated going there unprepared. My mother always used to tell me that "piano was something you can do all your life; even in your old age, where as gymnastics or sports won't last forever." I guess it's true too; you don't see many 65 year olds out there in the NFL.
Until last night I never realized how much I missed it. There was a time way back when, when I thought I'd never say or think that. My parents have a piano at their house, but I don't. I took for granted all the times when I lived at home when I could have just sat down and played something. Now that it's not there, I really miss it.