Tag Archives: Family

Piano Lessons

3 May

For most of my life, I have taken piano lessons. The first time I ever touched a piano was when I was 6; I started lessons when I was 8. In all honesty, when my parents asked if I wanted to play an instrument, what I really wanted to play was the guitar. But my mom is a classical music fan, and persuaded me to choose the piano. Thus, began my long, tear-filled journey of piano lessons.

I am not a fan of classical music. At all. I’m a through and through Country gal. Looking back, taking guitar lessons would have made a lot more sense. But at the time, I was quite easily persuaded. My first teacher wanted his students to enjoy what they were playing. So technique-wise, I learned nothing. After 3 or 4 years, I stopped with him, and got a different teacher. This new teacher is the one I blame for the tears.

He was young and strict and moody. By the end of every lesson, I would be in tears. Tears that I fought hard to control, but it was a losing battle from the start. I was (and still am) an extremely sensitive person, and his insults did nothing to help my growing hatred of the piano. Even when he praised me on a piece well played, all I could hear were “I have students younger than you who can play better” and “You will never be good at this”. My mom was no help either. “If you’d practice more, you’d get better”, “You can’t play with friends until you practice the piano. He said you have to practice at least 3 hours every day” and “Stop wasting money”.  To be fair, I did learn a lot about how to play the piano when I was with him.

To any sane person looking in, the solution would be simple. If you hate it so much, and if it causes so many fights (every single fight I have ever had with my parents stems from the piano), why don’t you just stop? The answer? Because I can’t. It has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. As much as I hate it, I can’t let go. It is a part of who I am, and if I stop, I too, will die. It seems overly dramatic. But it’s true. It has become such a huge part of me that if I were to stop, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

I found a new teacher, and have been with him for almost a year. I enjoy it, but slowly, the fights are starting again. Things as simple as my dad refusing to drive me (it takes close to 2 hours to get there by public transport) to (once again) the “fact” that I am “wasting money”. Whether I like it or not, piano lessons have become a part of me, and I know that it will continue to be until the day I die, whether it be soon or a long time away. That, I do not know, but what I do know is that I can never stop.

 

perfectlonelyworld

The First Snowfall

1 Mar

Soft flakes drifting lightly

Towards the white covered ground,

Forming a beautiful blanket

That is gentle and tender.

 

The wind murmurs in the air,

Ever so lightly, barely there,

Turning little noses the color of blood,

As snow continues to fall.

 

Bells jingle and wind chimes ring,

The smell of cinnamon at every turn,

Children sit with mugs of hot chocolate

To watch the first snowfall of the year.

 

perfectlonelyworld

The House That Built Me

15 Feb

The one with the red bricks,

Window at the front

The one with the giant tree,

That’s the house that built me.

 

The house with the rock,

Mighty and round

Sitting at the corner,

On the lawn of the house that built me.

 

The one with the squeaky gate,

And a driveway the colour of night

The one with the crooked pathway

It’s the house that built me.

 

The house with the most Life,

Love, laughter and joy,

It might be lacking in wealth,

But it’s the house that built me.

 

I will never forget,

The times I spent there

For it will always be

The house that built me.

 

perfectlonelyworld

Grandma

7 Feb

Here’s what I remember:

Her rocking my sister to sleep in her arms while singing a song.

Going to the store with her to buy Cheetos.

Hearing her tell me stories about when I was a baby before going to sleep.

Watching the back of her deep red coat become smaller and smaller as she went past security at the airport.

Her standing in front of the window while pouring herself some tea in furry light blue pajamas.

Sitting on the couch with her, watching TV show after TV show.

Going to a fancy restaurant to celebrate her birthday.

Her sitting on the reclining seat in the bedroom every morning, reading the newspaper.

Her and my sister walking around the house, arms swinging, like they had all the time in the world.

Going shopping and her buying me little mementos.

Her crying as we leave for the airport and my mom promising that we’ll see her again.

Here’s what I don’t remember:

The last thing I said to her before we left.

Me telling her that I love her.

 

perfectlonelyworld

RIP Grandma

5 Feb

A moment. A moment in time. A moment in time that can change everything. It can change your life for the better. Or this moment can turn your life upside down. It’s only a moment, yet it’s so much more than just that.

At 5:28, I was reading a book. A really good, interesting book. My phone started to vibrate. I had gotten an email. The moment I opened that email, at 5:29, everything changed. The time between 5:28 and 5:29 was my last moment not knowing. My last moment n0t knowing  that my Grandma, my dear, beloved Grandma, had passed away. It was the moment that changed everything.

My Grandmother has been sick for a while now. Almost 5 years, to be exact. And I guess I’ve always known that this moment would come. But I never let myself think about it. I never let myself dwell on that thought. And I never thought it would be so soon. February 5, 2013. 1:55.

What was I doing at 1:55? I was in school. It was last period. I had Science. I didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t have. And now that I do know, I don’t know which is worse. Knowing, and being in pain, or never knowing.

I have many regrets. The biggest one is that I never got to say goodbye. I never got to say ‘I love you’ one more time. I never got to see her one last time. I haven’t seen her in more than 4 years. I haven’t talked to her in more than 4 years. And now, now it’s too late. It’s too late for her to teach me how to knit. It’s too late for her to tell me stories about her childhood. It’s too late for everything. It’s too late to say goodbye.

Grandma, I haven’t said this to you since I was a baby. So I’ll say it now. I love you. Even if the last time I saw you, I was angry. Even if the last time I saw you, I was frustrated. I hope that you knew that through it all, I never stopped loving you. I never stopped caring. I love you. And I miss you.

 

perfectlonelyworld