The Piano Bench

Tonight I played my piano while my daughter sang. It's no revelation that music transports you to different times or places in your life, but tonight it occurred to me that my daughter was, though inadvertently, reconnecting me with a piece of my life that has been missing. It wasn't just the sound of music, it was the feeling of sitting on that piano bench, the very piano bench I have sat on, more times than I can count, for over twenty years. And I realized that it wasn't just about making music, it was that sitting there, i became just a bit more whole. And I think that may simply be because only good things, happy things have happened when I pull out that cherry pew, and sit down to worship our Holy Mother of Melody. I remember practicing while my mother was in the kitchen cooking. Every now and again, it occurred to me that the sounds of chopping or blending had stopped, and my mother was standing near by, silently watching me. I had played something, something that she valued enough to stop preparing the meal, to take a minute out of (what I am certain must have been) an incredibly busy day, just to hear me plodding through Beethoven. And I really never, until I became a mama, understood why she did that. I wasn't a musical prodigy or anything. What I believe now, is that she saw me as I saw myself at that moment- performing at Carnegie Hall, in front of an audience of thousands, with roses covering the stage floor. It wouldn't have mattered if I was playing Chopsticks, all my mom heard and saw was my sheer joy.
Tonight, while accompanying my Ella, I was transported back to that stage, though this time it was even better, as I shared the stage with my beautiful baby.  I could do no wrong! Sure, I could misread a note or slip up on the chorus or crescendo when I was supposed to decrescendo, but it wouldn't matter. Because sitting there, just playing a piece of music so my daughter could sing, there were no mistakes. It was only good rolling off that "golden tongue." I guess I should sit there more often...