Once upon a time, there was musical child. She started playing the piano at a young age, and by the time she was 12 was playing this:
She started playing the cello at around eight. When she was 11, she auditioned for a weekend program at what was then Trinity College of Music and was accepted.
Alas, the girl never went. The summer before she was supposed to start, her family moved back to the United States, a move she was not happy with, because she loved her life in London.
Still, she stayed musical, and even took up the oboe, so she could be in marching band with her friends.
But then the girl went through a difficult time in high school. She dropped the cello first, then the oboe, and by the time she went to college, she’d stopped playing the piano.
The girl, now a woman in her thirties was living in the UK and 35 weeks pregnant with her first child when her grandmother died. She had to get a doctor’s note to fly back to the States for the funeral. She inherited the piano that her grandparents had bought when they lived in the UK in the thirties. But not long after it arrived in the house in rural Dorset, her son was born. Her daughter followed a few years later. With two young kids and a stressful job, she didn’t get much time to play. Musicality, which had been such an essential part of the young girl’s life, became ever more deeply buried, to the point where she almost forgot it ever existed.
From time to time, she’d go to the piano and try to play, but found herself becoming sad and frustrated because what used to come like second nature now seemed an insurmountable challenge. She’d grown up to be a Type A perfectionist, which had its good points, like getting stuff done, meeting deadlines, and organizing things, but had also resulted in depression, bulimia and anxiety.
Deep down, she believed that she was a failure, and couldn’t handle that something that used to give her so much joy was another thing at which she couldn’t measure up.
So she’d bury that longing to be musical again. And again. And again.
But a year and a half ago, she was at her happy place, an inn on the shores of Lake Champlain, where after two years of Covid-related absence, she was finally able to gather with her writer friends for a working retreat. Her amazing writer friend Kate organized a ukelele evening, where an instructor named Sandy came in and taught them all some simple chords so they could have a sing-a-long. The girl, or rather the older woman, because she was now approaching 60, was filled with a sense of joy. A seed of herself, so long buried and dormant, began to germinate.
She realized that perhaps a way to overcome her frustration at not being the musician she once was would be to start playing a new instrument, so she’d be able to forgive herself for not being good at it.
So she bought herself a cheap ukelele. She learned a few songs from watching videos, but then deadlines took over, and the uke sat on the window seat in the living room gathering dust.
UNTIL…one day she was talking to her friend Bob, who had bought a uke during Covid lockdowns, but hadn’t done much with it until he got together with his friends George and John. They were meeting weekly to play, and he invited her to join.
It turned out to be just what she needed. A weekly deadline to practice for and a group with which to play and sing.
Last night was Bob’s 65th birthday, and the group, known as George’s Uke Jam, made its debut.
There were some hilarious moments, like at 24.11 in the video below, when the woman managed to tip her music stand, and when Bob went to assist…well watch for yourself :)
She (me) wanted to tell this story, to say it’s never too late to reconnect with the parts of yourself that you lost along the way to adulthood.
What a timely article (and PS...I miss you)! I was interested in your musical journey, Sarah, because ours is similar. I started out playing the piano at a young age...until I was fluent enough to play a church organ, which I did for almost two decades. That continued until my children were in middle school. And then, some life events led me to abandon music. Just last week, I asked permission to use the grand piano in my building and have dug out my old sheet music. I feel the music pulling me and I'm answering the call. Much love <3