She's Playing Her Song - One Committed Mama

Yesterday morning, E got up ***really*** early and, after breakfast, said she wanted to play the piano while she waited for me to take her to school.

Did I mention it was ***really*** early?

“Ok,” I said with a bit of reservation, mostly because I had not been fully caffeinated yet, and because pianos are loud, and because they’re even louder at 6:30 a.m. “Go ahead.”

At her request, I’ve been giving her informal piano lessons for the past few months, and she’s taking to it pretty quickly. She can play a few simple songs using her right hand, and now she’s starting to experiment with chords. She already has an “ear” for finding pitch, and can match the notes on the piano to her voice. Yeah, I’m bragging. Whatevs.

Anyway, she scooted her little butt onto the piano bench and, after playing for about 5 minutes, said, “Mama, can you get a piece of paper? I want you to write down what I’m singing.”

Ok, I said. I thought she was just being silly, so I played along.

I grabbed her trusty Olaf notebook and steadied my pen on the page. “Ok,” I said. “I’m ready.”

“Ok, Mama. This song is called ‘The Ocean,’” she said.

She began to sing and play a simple little melody. The song was about fishermen and mermaids. I copied down every word she sang. She wasn’t just pounding random keys on the piano. Rather, she was playing an actual song.

I was stunned.

Now, I’ve been playing music for 30+ years. Ask me how many complete songs I’ve written. (Hint: it rhymes with “shmeero.”)

Yet, here she was, singing a real song, with a real melody. And she played it over and over the same way, so I knew she wasn’t just making it up as she went along.

“Now you try it,” she said.

I tried to copy the melody, but she said I wasn’t doing it the right way.

“No, Mama. Like this,” she chided, and then continued to play her song.

Like many parents, I often grow wistful the fact that my “baby” girl is no longer a baby. Just yesterday, in fact, we were cleaning out her closet and I found the very first swimsuit she ever wore, tucked into a plastic bag on a shelf: an adorable little blue polka-dotted number with a goldfish embroidered on the front. Size: 3-6 months. It actually made me want to cry a little. Ok, a lot.

Yet, when moments like these occur – when I see my beautiful, intelligent and creative child maturing into the person she has the potential to become – it soothes the sting of time moving way, way, way too fast. Whether she continues on her musical journey or abandons it in favor of something else, the world is hers for the taking. I’m just along for the ride.

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