Thursday, March 11, 2010
A little background info. here: I grew up with no music lessons, piano, dance, art, etc., or any enrichment otherwise. Not looking for pity here, just a detached statement of fact. So, this next posting is, to me, just evidence of the surprising beauty that one gets gifted with in life. Just as there are the downs, there are also the ups. Given the environment I grew up in, it is amazing to me--beyond my imagination amazing--that I am able to post something such as this. Please do not consider it bragging as much as it is a statement of awe coupled with sheer disbelief, though it is staring me right in the eyes.
I hear it from upstairs, but I still can't believe it. I am hearing it through my own ears, in my own home. My brain processes it as reality, but my soul tells me it can't be so.
From the upstairs bedroom, I hear our 14 year old son playing the piano that is in our front room. I know it is him, and that it has to be him, since he is the only one able to play the piano in our family. I've seen him sit at that piano daily. A piano that just 5 years ago a friend gifted to us. And he plays, and plays. All his favorites: Journey, ColdPlay, movie themes. I've seen his fingers play on the keys, so know it to be true.
But my soul tells me it can't be. How does a woman like me, get blessed with a child like this? A musical child, how does it happen? I've never dreamed it possible, even in my wildest dreams. Yet, it's so. So, though I'd like to have our greeting on our answering machine just be him playing, I know I can't. And though I'd love to tell everyone, from the bagger at the store, to the town librarian, "My son can play, I mean, he can really play!" I know I can't. I know society doesn't find that acceptable.
So, I find myself having to sit down on the bed upstairs, with tears of pride and disbelief springing to my eyes too quickly for me stop them. I let him keep on playing. I don't want to walk downstairs just yet.
I might break the spell.