Heaven bless my parents! In my family, we have six kids, 5 girls and 1 boy. I am third oldest and have perfect pitch thanks to very, very stubborn parents. My parents insisted on as many of us doing piano as they could convince. When I began at the young age of 7, I fell in love with the feeling it gave me. I love music, the sound, the tone, the way it’s a different language than any other communication forum that exists. Now, keep in mind I was young, and I also despised practicing, particularly if it meant sacrificing my time outdoors. My mom would give me a hard time, calling me "Don music” because I would occasionally (or more than occasionally I’m sure-haha!) pitch a fit when I "couldn’t get it on the first try.” Which of course, isn’t sensible but for a seven or eight year old, it’s frustrating! I learned to stick with it, and soon after I could play the song. Our piano is a family heirloom from my father’s grandfather, so my great grandpas piano. He owned a logging camp in Texas in the early 1900’s. My great grandfather, the original owner named Ulysses Grant Dickson, kept the piano in pristine condition. Our family has used it thoroughly, with six children all playing the piano every time we pass it by. One of the fondest memories I have of my home is hearing it filled with music. From a young age, having this piano around filled me with peace and really connected me with a part of my personality. It taught me how to express myself and feel my emotions deeply. More than that, it taught my family that music is a very powerful thing. One time I was even so proud of my piano that I literally took a pocket knife and carved into the side of the piano labeling it "Z’s piano." My parents were mortified, but kind about it. We stained over it, but it still bears a distinct mark from the incident. In a weird sort of way, this piano has been a real constant in my life, one of only a few things that are. It has the ability to calm tense situations, and offer peace in times of great need.
