When Adrian started to lose his memory and mental agility, he worked hard at slowing the decline. He had always been curious about the world, especially the scientific explanations for it, so he continued to read articles and watch videos on physics and other subjects.
He also decided to learn a musical instrument, and asked me to give him lessons on the recorder. We already had a couple recorders in the house, along with beginner books on learning to play. So every day we would go over the same lesson, and he would try--with little success--to play it.
Then a friend suggested he get a digital piano keyboard, just to enjoy and fool around with. So we purchased an inexpensive Yamaha keyboard and set it up for him.
Thankfully—since I didn’t know anything about playing the piano—he didn’t ask me for lessons.
My granddaughter Rachel started taking piano lessons shortly after Adrian died, and all she had to practice on was an out-of-tune upright in her family’s living room. She was happy when I suggested that she take Adrian’s keyboard so she could practice in her own room. It even came with earphones so she wouldn’t have to worry about her brother or parents hearing her.
I’m the one who took Rachel to her piano lessons each week, and I loved sitting in to watch it happen. I began to wish that I were also learning to play the piano. Rachel’s teacher made it seem entirely possible, and she already had one seventy-year-old student. Why not me?
So I purchased another Yamaha keyboard exactly like the one I’d given Rachel, and I bought the same lesson books that Rachel was using. I watched and listened carefully when Rachel got her lessons, and practiced on my own at home.
After a couple months on my own, I decided I was ready to start official lessons, and I did.
At the time, I didn’t have a realistic notion of how long it takes to learn to play a piano. I just hoped I’d be able to play something nice for myself, and to eventually learn to play my mother’s old sheet music. She had played the piano since she was a young girl, but none of her six children learned to play.
I do remember us all standing around the family piano and singing while Mom played. And during the short time I played the violin in the school orchestra, she and I tried to play duets together. Mom always complained that I didn’t play with enough feeling, but I was struggling just to get the notes right.
I’m not a natural musician. I’m tone deaf. The violin was not a good instrument for me, but my uncle lent me one of his, and that’s how it was chosen.
Now, after two years of lessons, I own a very nice digital piano with the full keyboard and foot pedals. Rachel and I play easy duets together, and our teacher is helping me learn an old favorite Czech piece my mother used to play. But my teacher had to simplify the music in order for me to play it.
Does it make sense to begin learning an instrument like this at my age, when I may not live long enough to be able to play my mother’s music in its original form?
I was disappointed a few months ago when I bought the sheet music for one of Leonard Cohen’s songs in an “easy” version. It was much harder to play than I had expected.
I am most successful playing what my teacher picks out for me. She designs the lessons around pieces that will help me to learn and grow, but that are not too hard for me to find success playing them.
I am a tough critic and hate to do anything poorly.
I practice every day and work hard at it.
But I have a much clearer idea now of how long it takes to become proficient at playing the piano.
I know that with encroaching age it becomes more difficult to memorize, that fingers get stiff, and agility declines.
So before I start to practice, I take a deep breath and remind myself that I’m doing this for fun. Right now it’s fun. I don’t have to wait until I can play the more difficult pieces.
Right now I can play with feeling.
