I wrote this post on January 1, 2006. My God-given talent for playing the piano is now an unused talent. I let my daughter have my piano on the condition that I could come play it from time to time. That is no longer an option. The game I played with my grandchildren (described below) is a very precious memory to me. I hope old age doesn’t take my precious memories some day.
January 1, 2006
From birth my parents took me to a small church where I was the only baby–at least till my brother, Greg, came along 4 years later. Boy, was I spoiled…er, loved! Everyone wanted to take me home for dinner after church and play with me. Which they regularly did. To this day I think I relate better to those who are older than I am! Anyway, those dear, dear folks tolerated me and loved me.
From the time I was big enough to climb up by myself, I would haul myself up onto the piano bench and “play.” I never beat on the keys; I played my heart out on the big piano on the platform until time for the church service to start–Sunday morning and night and Wednesday night. Someone would come tell me it was time to start, and I would slip down off the bench and go sit in my mother’s lap. How precious those people are to me for never telling me to stop!
As I grew, I would stand in my father’s shoe repair shop next to the huge finishing machine, listening to the sound frequency. I would listen intently till I “had ” it, then I would hum the exact pitch. I would change my pitch just a little to be sharp or flat and listened to the resulting waves of harmonics underneath the tone. I learned that when I had the pitch “right on”, the sound was amazing. These were my first experiences with perfect pitch, a precious gift from God. To have it has been marvellous.
Among my fondest memories is playing “match pitches” with my children and young grandchildren. It’s amazing how quickly they pick up on the purpose of the game as babies. It doesn’t take long for them to start tricking me by changing pitches themselves and making ME catch up while they giggle gleefully! They love to match my pitch, then slide up the scale to a pitch impossible to duplicate by anyone over the age of 18 months.
I don’t know how old I was when I learned to play by ear and to chord, but it was way before I could read. Music has been a big part of my life from before I had the ability to remember. I started piano lessons when I was in 2nd grade and took lessons through graduate school. I played the piano for hours every day because I loved it so much. During my teenage years, music was responsible for my sanity, though I can’t vouch for that of my parents. When I was angry (which was often), I would pound the daylights out of Rachmaninoff. Russian music was great for relieving aggression!
I definitely had “The Gift”, and I thank God for that.
