A kind and thoughtful loan

I knew I was going to forget something ...

Wed, when I was down at DoT, Pilgrim girl made an extraordinary gesture of kindness that will have resounding implications for the future. Due to a new influx of comfy furniture, and the need to get down to the nitty-gritty of writing her dissertation, PG loaned me her digital piano! Small, but with a full-sized keyboard. Encased in a black wood cover and matching stand. Weighted keys that have a few different volume capabilities. Some fancy-schmancy tonal qualities. And a jack so that I can practice and not bother the neighbors. I'm so delighted!

Got it home Wed night, set it up, and played a bunch of Christmas songs from the hymnal, because I couldn't find the other music I wanted. Actually, the sheet music was all there, I was just looking for it in my music bag instead of on the shelf.

When I started taking piano lessons at the tender age of five, I didn't realize how much satisfaction music would give me. Neither did my parents. Of course it was a struggle to get me to practice, and sometimes my mother would have to put up with my groaning at weekly lessons. Of course there were times that I scooted the practice timer forward a couple of minutes when she wasn't looking. Of course there were times when I hated having to accompany at Saturday morning baptisms when my dad was ward, then stake mission leader/president.

But, there were so many compensations. Performing at school concerts. Having the upper hand on reading music when I took up clarinet in elementary school (for a year) and flute in junior high school (again, for a year). Learning to conduct music with Rowan Taylor (I wish I could say that I was a talented student, but the fact is that he volunteered his time to anyone in the stake who wanted to learn, which happened to be just my brother Bork and myself, urged out of bed Saturday mornings by my dad. This fact doesn't negate Taylor's talent, just the sensibilities of the stake members). Learning to sing alto. Understanding the flow of music that I dance to. Just so many benefits.

And not least of these is the intense personal satisfaction I have when I mastered a piece that speaks to my soul. Fur Elise when I was 8. Polonaise in G Minor by Chopin when I was about 12. The accompaniment to Adoration by Borowski (to play with JLITH on the violin) when I was 14. Where Do I Begin by Lai when in high school, borrowed from my AP English teacher (The Great One, as he was known to his teacher buddies, because he was multi-talented). And Reverie by Debussy somewhere around 20. My history in music is laid out in scrap books (more like accomplishments books with lots of printed programs and awards) lovingly compiled by my father.

I quit taking piano lessons somewhere around seventeen years of age. By then I had largely stopped practicing at all, and was much more obssessed with much pettier teenage superfluities.

About eight year ago, I started having cravings for music again. Little by little, I started to collect sheet music of songs that really spoke to me. I started playing at the church whenever I could sneak in a practice session. Dusted off a few old favorites, and started trying out a couple of new pieces. It became my goal to learn Debussy's Claire de Lune. I've gotten to the third page. Not very good progress.

However, now I have a good instrument that I have total access to. I've playing at least one song a day on it. I'm saddened at how stiff and weak my fingers are ... they trip maddeninly slowly over some of my old favorite pieces. However, there is progress. I'm slowly regaining mastery. I even slogged through the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata tonight (which is not very difficult, I'm just a poor sightreader, and my hands have trouble spanning more than an octave ... which means that I also have trouble playing pieces by Lizst or the easiest of Rachmaninoff's).

And so it is that I now have a piano in my home again. Much gratitude to such a good friend.