They say you never know what you’re missing until it’s gone. Well, I never knew how much I missed the sound of piano playing in the house (well, apartment) until I heard Namine practicing her piano.
When I was in high school, the sound of the piano playing was common in my house. Not only do my parents play, but it was common to hear my sister practicing as well. I never appreciated it at the time — what big brother does? — but I can recall the years now, how she improved. I look forward to the same with my own daughter.
Namine has only had a few piano lessons. She’s just on the very basics right now, but I still love to hear her practicing. It was a stay-at-home kind of weekend, just perfect for cleaning and catching up on the housework. As I was folding some laundry, Namine practiced on the piano.
I wish I had the words to describe my feelings, as I sat there listening to her. It’s such a simple thing, really, but rarely have I felt such contentment. A perfect moment. I know it sounds corny, but I don’t care. I just love to listen to my daughter plunk away on the piano. There’s a love there, a love for music — not just for listening to it, but for creating it — and I am honored and awed to share these moments with her.