For more than four years now, his piano has been mostly silent. It is one of those objects that has such a strong sense of him, it brings me to tears to touch it. So I don't play it-not that I ever did very much, but now I don't at all.
When munchkin was 2 and 3 he took a piano class at his montessori school. He loved it but it was a group session and did not necessitate practice on the piano. Now that he is 5, he has discovered his joy of reading and also the joy of the piano.
He has dug through my filing cabinet of music and taken it upon himself to "read" the music and "play" the piano. Fortunately, he remembers a striking amount of the basics (finger numbers and note names) so he is doing fairly well.
It is odd, that something that when Robert was alive brought us such joy, when he died it pierced my heart with just the sound of the keys. And now, I see our son, gravitate towards it. I help him and we work together on it. He absorbs it like a sponge and it is beautiful to see.
When I say it pierced my heart, I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. That first Christmas, I tried so hard to play Christmas music and to share that with my family. I physically could not do it, I would sit on the bench paralyzed with greif and cry. The tears would run down my cheeks and I would silently close the lid and walk away. The silence of the piano was deafening to me, but I could not bring myself to play it.
Now, munchkin has been practicing consistently. He loves it, he reads his work books and plays the notes. I really should find him a teach besides me, but I fear that any teacher I find, would not live up to the shadow of Robert. He was by far and hands down the best music teacher that I have ever seen in my life. I know that I may be biased, however I also know that there are some former students that read this that will confirm. He was a special soul and he was built for teaching.
I pray that I can find someone to help munchkin love music as much as Robert and I do!