My Baby Grand

Has been good to me. That’s a lie because I don’t have one. But I want one. I grew up playing piano and I’m decent. I gave up piano because I wasn’t nearly good enough to make a living off of it and my mom being old school hired the meanest piano marm on earth to teach me. To my mom, if you’re having fun then it isn’t working.

I went the opposite approach with my kids and the result was worse than my mom’s efforts with me. I don’t have her fortitude for defiant kids. My youngest left me early for the guitar. Perfectly ok with that. My oldest who is so damn talented at piano stayed longer but left me too.

It’s ok. The older sits up in their room with their electric keyboard composing music and rifts and writing songs. Something I would never have done. Maybe I would have if I hadn’t been suppressed in a stifled, lockstep approach to learning. I was forced to compete and do scales and arpeggio ad nauseam and do the things that we thought mattered then.

There’s a path for everything. The kids don’t have to be tied down to my childhood piano to say they are musical. Evolution is the ability to adapt. So I adapt and listen to my older’s songs when they bring them down for me to vet if they are good. Or my younger when they play ‘Blackbird’ on mom’s request.

And maybe dust off my old Gershwin book, the one’s I bought after I burned my Liszt books, after I ditched terrifying piano competitions for enjoyable personal playing. Maybe I’ll scroll FB and Craig’s list later for used baby grands. It might be time.

We all have our path.

Published by miasotowrites

Wannabe Writer Tired Mother Aspiring Slacker

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