The sad thing about senior year is that it is a year of lasts. My most recent last was my last piano lesson, which took place yesterday. It is an odd thing- leaving something that has been a part of your life for so long. I've taken paino for at least 10 years. That's 10 years' worth of wednesday afternoons at Mrs. Paul's house that are now officially in the past. 10 years' worth of forgetting to do my theory homework and "facing the music" when I didn't practice. Mrs. Paul and I have been through a lot. She can tell when I've not practiced, and when I'm in a bad mood and don't feel like playing well. She knows my potential and knows that I have good fingers for trills and huge chords and that I can handle odd rythyms. I've been going to her since I was a tiny third grader whose hands could barely stretch to reach an octave, and look at me now. My hands can stretch a few notes over an octave and I am a big 12th grader. She knows that I have to hear a song before I can play it properly, as opposed to my sightreading sisters. Hmm. So it was sad for me to say goodbye to the regularity. Now I have decided that I want to keep playing piano on my own. I want to have a piano in my house and be able to sit down and play songs that I like when I have my own home someday. I want my kids to be able to grow up hearing the piano being played (because I certainly will be making them take lessons when they're able). Playing songs relaxes me. Plus, I can't just let all of these years go to waste.
I think I'm going to go play some piano.
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