Even from a very young age, I knew that my Mom loves the piano. She was always listening to her piano collection which ranged from classical pieces to renditions of theme songs. Unfortunately, my grandparents never nurtured creativity in the family. Their staunch beliefs on academic aspirations dictated the outcome of all their children. Any artsy activity was never encouraged. They believed that delving into nurturing one’s creative bone is a luxury that one can indulge in once they have achieved their respective careers. And there were no ifs and buts regarding the matter. As a result, my Mom never had piano lessons as a child so it was no surprise to me that she decided to enrol me in piano classes.
I was in fifth grade when I started my lessons. It made my Mom happy. She enjoyed knowing that I’m learning to play the piano. She made me practice purely because she wanted to listen to me play. Sadly, I was never good at it. I did not really have the passion for piano. I actually wanted to learn to play the saxophone instead of the piano. My Mom knew this, but she told me she could not find a saxophone teacher so I was stuck with piano. Deep down, I think she just really wanted me to play the piano. After two years of lessons, I gave up. I told her that I could not continue anymore. She was a little disappointed, but then she decided to teach herself to play by using my books. It was obvious her heart was in it. I helped her learn the notes and with her dedication to practice my Mom eventually played the piano. And she was much better than me. I remember waking up certain Sunday mornings to her playing the Unchained Melody. A little morose for a wake up music, but it was nice to see her achieve what she has always wanted to do. Unfortunately, when we moved my parents decided to sell the piano because it was an inconvenience then. I know my Mom missed our piano. One day, I hope to buy her a piano so she can play again.