Growing up, I was told repeatedly that my father played the piano like a professional, describing the joy he felt and how he managed to transmit his joy to anyone who heard him.
I have the abiding image of him in his army uniform, huge boots beating the floor in time with the music. Unfortunately, I never met him, as he was lost in the war when I was a baby, but I wish so much that I had.
I have been told that I am just like him. He was tall and liked to build and mend things, always good with his hands with unending patience. Sounds just like me!
The one thing I didn’t get was his talent on the piano. I know it is inside me somewhere, for I can feel it and sometimes the feeling is so strong, I think I could sit down at a piano and miraculously start playing. But with the best will in the world, I can’t, and is one of the strongest regrets in my life.
Music has always been my passion and my inspiration, and some of my favourite pieces are piano concertos. I still wish I could learn how to play, even now, at 76 years old.
I did try to learn when I was younger. I learned how to read music and could play simple tunes with my right hand. But my brain drew the line at both hands on the keys, refusing to let my right hand play the different notes. I am one of those people they say couldn’t walk and chew gum, and I suppose I am. That party game where you try to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time is impossible for me. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Just try it and see how hard it is.
In my life, I have encountered many things I wanted to learn but had to walk away from, much to my disappointment. My ego has been subjected to so much frustration during my life, and even though I eventually have to give up on things, the desire remains.
I have always insisted that you should be able to learn anything, given the right instruction and determination. However, I have discovered it isn’t possible, and have had to admit defeat on so many occasions.
I am sorry that I never met my father but sadder still that I cannot play the piano as he did.
I am sorry dad, I did try…
Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie 
I had that same challenge when I tried to play the piano. Which was why I was a great rhythm guitar player and not a virtuoso classical guitar player. Even learning to type was a struggle. I started out with all ten fingers and now I’m good enough with eight to get the words out in a timely and mostly accurate manner. 🙂 … mostly!
That’s the thing though (just occurred to me as I am writing) I’m not as great a typist as I’d like to be but it’s sufficient for me to be as great a writer as I want to be. I wasn’t a great guitar player but it enabled me to be part of a fabulous band, be up on stage and create a whole bunch of performances. Funny how that works, eh? 😀
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I think there is a niche for all of us, and something, even if it’s only a small thing, that we will excel at…
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This was a terrific post. My dad died when I was ten. He was an engineer and math whiz. I know how you feel because I struggled with math all through school. It’s not that I didn’t try. I took all the courses where math was required (Statistics, finance, accounting) but I had to work harder than everyone else. I was not a chip off the old block. I suspect your dad would admire your skills. I know he would be proud.
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I think he would, for he was that kind of guy!
Thanks for liking the post, John…
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🙂
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I’m sorry you never met your father. It’s interesting that you and I both have had the same creative experience. I wanted to sing more than anything in my life. But I’m quite bad at it. So I ended up writing, which I am good at, and so are you! So, in a way, you did inherit your dad’s gift, that gift of creativity. xo
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Yes, even though I wish I could play the piano like he did, I know I am my fathers daughter in so many other ways…
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That’s a lovely heartfelt post, and surely your father is proud of all that you HAVE accomplished. When it comes to any type of artistic endeavor, especially music, I think people can learn the mechanics, but if you lack the passion the end result isn’t the same.
My father (who passed away when I was 13) was talented as an artist…oil paints, watercolors, charcoal, pastels. Like you, I often wanted to be able to sit down in front of an easel or blank canvas, but I lacked both the mechanics and the talent. I tried too, but nada. My dad dabbled in writing and that I took to the extreme and ran with. No artists in my family. My brother got some of my dad’s talent, but a much larger dose of musical talent from our grandfather and thus pursued that. Odd how things turn out, isn’t it?
Maybe it isn’t admitting defeat when we abandon something, but recognizing where our talents are better applied.
This was a fabulous post!
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Thank you for liking the post so much, means a lot!
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