Literally music to my ears

My eldest child has been taking formal piano lessons for almost 5 months now ('formal', because what I have been teaching him heretofore has been decidedly informal.)

He was playing one recent morning, and as he played, I lay down in my room and just listened. The piece was Gymnopedie No. 1, by Erik Satie. It was by no means perfect. There were a few mistakes, a little stumbling, some halting.

But, still, so very nice.

I, myself, began piano lessons around the age of 10 and continued my lessons through high school. I am no musical genius, but played reasonably well - if I was diligent with my practicing (I was). But what always stood out to me were the words of my mother, "Oh, I just love listening to you play!"

I must confess that I partly interpreted this compliment as 'mom being nice'. Not to give the wrong impression - I did not doubt her sincerity, but faintly sensed her praise must have arisen more from her motherly desire to encourage her child, no matter how mistake-ridden, monotonous, discordant, the notes coming from the instrument may be, than from simply the pure enjoyment of the music.

But now I know. I have stumbled into yet another motherhood mystery, which is only to be experienced, not explained. Because now I know she really did mean it. Because now it is I who will say to my child, "Oh, how I love to listen to you play!"

And I do.

And then there was Dad.

Whose favorite comment to me was always, "Hey, Steph - do you know 'Refrain From Music'?"