One of the best things I did last week was attend a funeral for a man I didn't know. I knew of him, and I know his son who looks just like him and his grandchildren. I know who his wife is, and I like her because she is Danish, and has red hair and a sweet accent. I was at the funeral incidentally. I was asked to play piano for the services because they figured I wouldn't have to leave a job to do it. When my family heard they asked me, they wondered why. I said they must have been desperate.
As small as my service was, it allowed me to take part in their tender honoring of a very good man. He was a nuclear physicist who was raised in Vernal, Utah and had three older sisters and a way of getting out of work as a kid. (You can see why I liked him already.) He served a mission in Denmark and loved the people there. He met his wife at a dance in Salt Lake City, where he literally bumped into her and she was so flustered she started speaking Danish, her native tongue. They had two daughters who adored him and spoke of his support for them and his tender love for their mother. And they had a son who they moved to live close to a year and a half ago so they could help his children come to church. The son felt like he was losing one of his best friends because he also worked professionally with his father and got to see how respected he was in his field and how respectfully he treated the people around him. He also visited his parents in Denmark when they served a mission together there later in life. We sang "If You Could Hie to Kolob" and "Called to Serve", which seem like unusual funeral choices, but they were exactly perfect in honoring the life of this very good man. My playing was only adequate--if that. I came home with so much more than I brought.
As we are dragging to the end of another piano year, I only have two in lessons any more, and neither of them love it. I struggle to know whether to keep pushing or to let them choose--most likely to quit. Whatever I did with the first two seemed to backfire dramatically. But I don't want to have a funeral for piano just yet. My hope is that somehow the piano efforts of the last decade will at least allow them to have an an ability to play and enjoy for themselves, and to offer small gifts of service to people who may make a shining difference in their lives.
As small as my service was, it allowed me to take part in their tender honoring of a very good man. He was a nuclear physicist who was raised in Vernal, Utah and had three older sisters and a way of getting out of work as a kid. (You can see why I liked him already.) He served a mission in Denmark and loved the people there. He met his wife at a dance in Salt Lake City, where he literally bumped into her and she was so flustered she started speaking Danish, her native tongue. They had two daughters who adored him and spoke of his support for them and his tender love for their mother. And they had a son who they moved to live close to a year and a half ago so they could help his children come to church. The son felt like he was losing one of his best friends because he also worked professionally with his father and got to see how respected he was in his field and how respectfully he treated the people around him. He also visited his parents in Denmark when they served a mission together there later in life. We sang "If You Could Hie to Kolob" and "Called to Serve", which seem like unusual funeral choices, but they were exactly perfect in honoring the life of this very good man. My playing was only adequate--if that. I came home with so much more than I brought.
As we are dragging to the end of another piano year, I only have two in lessons any more, and neither of them love it. I struggle to know whether to keep pushing or to let them choose--most likely to quit. Whatever I did with the first two seemed to backfire dramatically. But I don't want to have a funeral for piano just yet. My hope is that somehow the piano efforts of the last decade will at least allow them to have an an ability to play and enjoy for themselves, and to offer small gifts of service to people who may make a shining difference in their lives.
Good Morning! Thank you for sharing your talent with that good family; and thank you for bringing the sweet spirit of that family to me.
ReplyDeleteI certainly identify with the conflicted feelings about piano lessons. On the positive side, I'm so grateful that my mother persisted and gave me the gift of music when I chaffed at having to take lessons.
And isn't it wonderful that you took lessons and are able to enjoy playing the glad songs of your heart?
You are so cute. I adore you Heather.
ReplyDeleteI admire your persistence in keeping your kids in piano. It's a gift that they might not appreciate until later. I didn't appreciate piano lessons until I was about 21. I'm grateful to be able to speak the language of music now.
ReplyDeleteI approve of you no matter who plays the piano. You write about people in marvelous loving ways. Makes me want to have a "meet Heather's friends" day.
ReplyDeleteThat is such a great thing you were able to do. I like attending funerals for the fact that you learn so much about the person and how they influenced the world for good, that people usually don't just talk about or share. Also because I usually learn good life lessons or insight.
ReplyDeleteKeep persevering with the piano. I learned enough to be dangerous but not enough to play well and I really wish my mom would have fought harder with me and kept me going. I think it is great that you are having them learn.