The Song of My Childhood....Continued

I was always very conscious of how my Mom appeared in public.  And very conscious of how it reflected on me.  In addition, she wasn't always the most pleasant woman in dealing with other human beings.  So, I was concerned that she would have some kind of interaction with the office staff that wouldn't be fun for me to watch.  (She was short-tempered in a way that I have seen in myself and others dealing with depression.)  However, even if I worried about my Mom and how she would appear to other human beings, I really did get something pretty significant out of my time at my violin lesson.  It wasn't because I was working hard at practicing.  Or because I had a natural talent.  It was because of the relationship with Dr. Sheasby.  And the beauty of the music.

Dr. Sheasby, of course, knew that I didn’t practice.  No matter what I told him. But sometimes he would confront me.  And sometimes he would not. I  think he knew on some level that I needed the time with him.  And it was more than just practicing and playing violin.  It was a form of escape and nurturing.  Like I said, playing with him was almost healing for me.  I remember one time that he assigned me to learn and play "The Blue Danube".  Maybe I did just enough practicing for that piece, because I loved it.  It was so beautiful. I actually can still remember being in the little room where I was taught, with Dr. Sheasby playing accompaniment. I was transported. I wasn’t a confused and sad little girl coping with the fact of my Mom’s illness. I was feeling the music.  It was a very moving moment for me. And it totally cemented my relationship with Dr. Sheasby.  Both of us were stunned by how well I did. THAT was truly music therapy in its purest form. When I left the practice room, the staff in the front office commented about how beautiful we sounded. Which made me wonder, if they heard that, did they hear all the other times when I sounded horrible?  And again, while I was maybe a little embarrassed at  the thought, it was more important what I got out of the experience of playing.  Just a little piece of heaven in a world of pain.

Continued.....