Right on Track

When I was contemplating retirement, I started making lists.  Lists of things I wanted to do. Lists of things I needed to attend to. Lists- so I could be positive I wouldn't just let the days piddle away. Lists- so I would remember exactly why I was giving up teaching, and what I wanted to accomplish in whatever days I have left. (Writing, btw, was at the top ;) ) And one of the items on one of those lists, was to start playing piano again.

I started piano lessons when I was 8.  I was NOT an enthusiastic student. I had a wonderful, patient teacher by the name of Mr. Balzer, whom I never appreciated. He had 2 Schnauzer dogs, and was from Germany- which was all I found interesting about him. (This was a GREAT disservice to him, and evidence of my immaturity and self-centeredness). I quit instruction at age 12, after badgering, and fussing my poor mother into compliance. She finally just threw her hands in the air, and said, "Fine! but SOMEday, you'll regret this!" and she was right. I continued to play, off and on, but as life got busier, it was definitely more off than on, until I found I only played on Christmas Eve while the family tried to sing, overlooking my attempts, and muttered, "Oops! sorry!" while picking at the melody with one finger. My intentions, EVERY year, were to start playing again- perhaps practicing even 15 min. a day, because that could only help! but life continued to slip away, and I never followed through.

Today, after being retired for 2 whole weeks! I found myself with a bit of time, and thought, 'Piano! Might as well start NOW!' And I did! I found my old finger exercise book from 47 years ago, and coaxed my fumbling fingers to slowly play the notes. Over and over, better and quicker. I mastered the first one! and went on to the second! And it was SO fun! (Yes, Mom! I actually said Czerny was FUN!)

At some point, I turned and looked over my shoulder. There was the photograph of my mother, and I felt her smile shine on me.