My mom always used to tell the story about one day when she heard someone playing piano in the other room and thought to herself, 'that sounds really nice.'
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Then she realized the only other person at home was me, who at the time was around four years old. She started me on piano lessons as soon as I turned five, and I'm very grateful she did.
Sadly, she passed away a couple of months ago. Fortunately, I had sent most of the rough phone recordings of the new songs I had written - all on piano - to my sister who shared them with my parents to listen to ahead of time (thank you, Kiri!). She loved music and was a big supporter of everything I had written. In her last few weeks in hospice, she listened to my music day and night. I take comfort in the idea that my new songs helped carry her through this difficult transition. What more can one ask for?
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