Among my Dad's many talents is the ability to play the piano beautifully. When I was five we moved into a house with a large living room and initially all that was in it was the piano. My sister Danielle and I were thrilled because this became our "dance room." Dad would play and play and Danielle and I, dressed in our girly nightgowns, would twirl, leap, and run circles around each other. It really was too bad when my parents put furniture in that room--a couch and a coffee table make doing a row of cartwheels more difficult, but we managed anyway. We used the arm of the couch as a jumping board of sorts to catapult ourselves through the air--very gracefully, of course. But, better than the dancing, were the nights when Dad would play after we had gone to bed and I would lay there and strain to listen until the classical music eventually lulled me to sleep. Each piece in his repertoire became completely imprinted in my mind in this way over the years. I remember being absolutely stunned the first time I heard one of "my Dad's" pieces being played over the intercom of a department store because I truly thought no else had ever played them but him, they had become so personal to me. Now it's a complete joy to watch my boys respond to Dad's magic in the same way Danielle and I did--by running crazily around their living room, or in Luke's case actually trying to play the piano with him. Maybe the musical talent has skipped a generation and we will have someone to follow in Dad's footsteps.
Among my Dad's many talents is the ability to play the piano beautifully. When I was five we moved into a house with a large living room and initially all that was in it was the piano. My sister Danielle and I were thrilled because this became our "dance room." Dad would play and play and Danielle and I, dressed in our girly nightgowns, would twirl, leap, and run circles around each other. It really was too bad when my parents put furniture in that room--a couch and a coffee table make doing a row of cartwheels more difficult, but we managed anyway. We used the arm of the couch as a jumping board of sorts to catapult ourselves through the air--very gracefully, of course. But, better than the dancing, were the nights when Dad would play after we had gone to bed and I would lay there and strain to listen until the classical music eventually lulled me to sleep. Each piece in his repertoire became completely imprinted in my mind in this way over the years. I remember being absolutely stunned the first time I heard one of "my Dad's" pieces being played over the intercom of a department store because I truly thought no else had ever played them but him, they had become so personal to me. Now it's a complete joy to watch my boys respond to Dad's magic in the same way Danielle and I did--by running crazily around their living room, or in Luke's case actually trying to play the piano with him. Maybe the musical talent has skipped a generation and we will have someone to follow in Dad's footsteps.
3 comments:
Sounds like some great memories. How fun to see your boys respond the same way.
Between your Dad and Papa Bill, it looks like your boys have a very good chance of being musical!
This would make such an excellent scrapbooking page :)
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