12.28.2008

roots (so to speak)

Well, here we are, 3 days after Christmas, socked up in Grandma's and Grandpa's house with all the toys, all the kids, Grandma/Grandpa, and one puppy. Yes, P-U-P-P-Y. Santa brought us a yellow lab, and she is just the sweetest thing. Driving her 1000 miles back home to Texas is going to be an adventure, though. If you don't see any more posts after January 6th, you'll know we didn't make it.



Anyhoo, we attended G & G's ward today - the ward I grew up in, where many of my friends' parents still attend (and a few of my friends; all-grown-up). This isn't, of course, the first time I have come back to visit and then go to church with my parents, but every time I do, I feel my age a little more. Not that I feel old, necessarily; but the space between my growing-up years and where I am now seems to get a little wider with each visit. Every time I come back, I see something or someone that reminds me of how it was to grow up here, and it gets me a little nostalgic. I know I'm not the only one this happens to, but you can still indulge me a little memory - right, reader?



So this time it was a "who" I saw that got me. I was sitting in Relief Society with my mom, waiting for the meeting to start. There was prelude being played on the piano, and I looked up to see who was playing it and it was my former piano teacher. This lady taught all of the kids in my family at one time or another, including me. I took from her for a total of 6 years (I had a short stint with another teacher that didn't last long because one of us ran out of patience - I think it was her) before quitting in high school because I got too busy. She must be in her 70s or 80s now, but you could still hear the skill in her playing; even when she was just playing the opening hymn (a task which I have done several times in R.S., and I'll even admit I don't bother with too much expression because I don't think anyone pays that much attention). Anyway, it was still a pleasure to listen to, and it made me think ahead to when I'm in my 70s or 80s and playing the piano - I hope I'm still playing at that point - and hope that my abilities will progress to the point that I still desire to put forth a pleasing performance, even if it's "just the opening hymn".

1 comment:

Larissa said...

That's a memory you'll treasure! I often wonder where my old piano teacher is...too bad he's not in my parents'ward! It must have been so fun seeing her after so many years. And I know you'll love playing and play well when you're in your 80s!