The first time I held a musical instrument changed me. The tiny 12-bass accordion came down from the attic, unplayed since my mom was a child. A teacher named Mrs. Daniels suffered through my scales as I learned how to play and read the notes.
Then came Aunt Mary’s used spinet when she upgraded to an organ. Besides practicing 30 minutes every day, my sister and I were responsible for keeping the dark wood dust-free – no easy task on a busy hog farm.
Next came an instrument just for me: a well-played flute in a battered case, purchased second hand from a graduating flutist. We took it to our small-town music store for a tune-up, giving it a cleaner sound than any of the shiny new student flutes.
A Lifelong Skill
I had a chance to reminisce when a best friend invited me to her seventh-grade granddaughter’s orchestra concert. The talented young musician sits first chair violin and certainly had the most enthusiastic cheerleading section in the gymnasium. I realized how big a part music has played in my life and how teaching music to our children is an investment that, if they choose, becomes a gift for the rest of their lives.
Upon reaching high school and earning first chair, Mom and Dad said I could have a brand new flute. Instead, I chose to have my trusty friend replated with silver. We even tucked her in a new case before a special spring concert.
I had the flute spot in quartet; the tune was Chicago’s “Color My World.” Mom spent every minute before hand-stitching a sky-blue velvet dress. It had long sleeves, a good thing because it was mighty cold that year – so cold the hog water tanks froze the night of my concert. Dad wouldn’t be there for my moment in the spotlight.
Just before the quartet took the stage, I saw my mom stand up in the bleachers and wave. I followed her eyes to the door where Dad was coming in, all cleaned up in a suit and tie. I never felt so loved.
Never Too Late to Begin Again
Fast forward 50 years. I found the old flute in a trunk during a move. It made an awful sound. The pads were rotten and the silver plate worn. While it was in the shop for repairs, I learned of a flute choir that practiced and performed in a local church.
I didn’t remember any of my fingerings that first rehearsal. But the other flutists encouraged me, and my playing was passable by the Christmas concert. I noticed my husband sitting in the back of the church and waved. When I looked a couple numbers later, he was gone. He didn’t come back. I never felt so unloved. He’s my ex now.
Keep the Music Playing
The pandemic paused most live music. It’s tricky playing a flute wearing a mask. When the new leader of a local community band announced practices in the park, I was all in. Now, as a member of the Manatee Community Concert Band, we play a full concert schedule in Bradenton’s Neel Performing Arts Center. Members range in age from students to a kid in his 90s who sits with the trumpeteers.
It’s a thrill: walking out onto the shiny wooden stage in front of a packed house and waving to my own cheerleading section. Our backdrop is a towering 3,000-pipe organ. But that’s another story.
Also read, 4 Ways Music Feeds Our Spirit in Tough Times.
A Perpetual Gift
The gift of music has enriched my life more than any other gift. Some kids pick it up, but most won’t. I play music; my sister plays golf. We were both offered the same opportunities and are happy with our choices.
I am grateful I can read and play music and for that old flute in the battered case I was embarrassed to carry. I’m grateful to my mom for setting the 30-minute kitchen timer, for the blue velvet dress and for leaving me a little something when she departed so I could go buy my first new flute – a gift to myself for my 65th birthday, also the day of Mom’s Celebration of Life.
Thanks Mom and Dad for the gift of music. I’ll be grateful to my last toot.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
What one gift from your childhood has been the most valuable to you? Has music played part in your life? In what ways?
