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.'
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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