Making Music
We love music, in our family. Who doesn't? Bill plays drums, guitar and piano. I play the flute and sing. He's rock and roll. I'm classical and baroque. However, we both love most genres of music. We can find common ground and a lot of it.
Last night, for the first time ever, Bill sat down at our baby grand piano and started playing a Journey song. He had the sheet music out and was trying to get the chords right. I stepped in to help. He doesn't read music very well. He plays by ear, which I think is an even better ability. However, I read music like I read English. So, I helped him. Then he practiced for a bit, still frustrated that his fingers couldn't keep up with a song he used to be able to play by heart.
I got my flute and started playing the melody line. It wasn't perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but I haven't had anyone accompany me in a so long. He sang and we both played. I took the melody down to the lower octave, so his voice would be heard. Then I took it up again, when he stopped singing. We both need more practice, but it felt so good.
Soren, who had been cleaning the basement with his brother, came upstairs and slowly approached the music room. I watched his face while he listened. He didn't speak. He just grinned. When we stopped, because we had to figure something out about the base line, Soren said, "Wow! You guys sound great! I didn't know you could play the piano, Dad!"
He didn't know. For seven years, he didn't know. Why did it take us so long??? Why have we neglected these talents for years and years? Bill and I have been together for eleven years now. We've never played anything together. Sometimes we sing together, and he takes the harmony. That's fun. This was better. The piano had just been tuned and my husband knows how to use the pedals. He was getting a sound out of that thing that filled the entire house and could probably be heard on the street. I stood next to him. I watched his hands and joined when it was time.
It brings me to tears. I think of the time wasted on frivolous, mundane things. I think of all the times that we could have made ourselves feel better, by making music. There are times when music is the only thing that makes sense. It can feel like a lifeline when you're drowning in minutia.
We will never forget to do this. Never again. Maybe we won't play every day. Maybe we will. But we will play. And it will be beautiful. Then, our boys can join us, when they're ready. They can dance and sing, now. Someday, Kieran will play drums and Soren will learn guitar. Those aren't my dreams. Kieran wants to be a drummer. Soren loves the guitar.
Something is happening. Something very good.
Last night, for the first time ever, Bill sat down at our baby grand piano and started playing a Journey song. He had the sheet music out and was trying to get the chords right. I stepped in to help. He doesn't read music very well. He plays by ear, which I think is an even better ability. However, I read music like I read English. So, I helped him. Then he practiced for a bit, still frustrated that his fingers couldn't keep up with a song he used to be able to play by heart.
I got my flute and started playing the melody line. It wasn't perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but I haven't had anyone accompany me in a so long. He sang and we both played. I took the melody down to the lower octave, so his voice would be heard. Then I took it up again, when he stopped singing. We both need more practice, but it felt so good.
Soren, who had been cleaning the basement with his brother, came upstairs and slowly approached the music room. I watched his face while he listened. He didn't speak. He just grinned. When we stopped, because we had to figure something out about the base line, Soren said, "Wow! You guys sound great! I didn't know you could play the piano, Dad!"
He didn't know. For seven years, he didn't know. Why did it take us so long??? Why have we neglected these talents for years and years? Bill and I have been together for eleven years now. We've never played anything together. Sometimes we sing together, and he takes the harmony. That's fun. This was better. The piano had just been tuned and my husband knows how to use the pedals. He was getting a sound out of that thing that filled the entire house and could probably be heard on the street. I stood next to him. I watched his hands and joined when it was time.
It brings me to tears. I think of the time wasted on frivolous, mundane things. I think of all the times that we could have made ourselves feel better, by making music. There are times when music is the only thing that makes sense. It can feel like a lifeline when you're drowning in minutia.
We will never forget to do this. Never again. Maybe we won't play every day. Maybe we will. But we will play. And it will be beautiful. Then, our boys can join us, when they're ready. They can dance and sing, now. Someday, Kieran will play drums and Soren will learn guitar. Those aren't my dreams. Kieran wants to be a drummer. Soren loves the guitar.
Something is happening. Something very good.
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