I come from a musical family, with branches on both coasts and several parts in between, along with some international impact as well. My late brother, my sister and several nephews and nieces all perform - or used to perform - music on pretty high levels.
For the most part, this river of talent and passion starts with my mother, Ardith.
She began playing piano as a young girl and has kept on playing. My brother, sister and I all learned from her - although, I'm ashamed to say, I was a bit of a brat about it and quit after a couple of years, insisting that I wanted only to play guitar. It's one of a few regrets. I wish that I could play keys in addition to the six- and 12-string guitars; wish I was multi-instrumental like my younger brother and sister. Perhaps I will get back to the piano someday.
At any rate, my mother became a terrific pianist. When I was a kid, she gravitated to the organ and became quite accomplished playing the most sophisticated pipe organs. She served Trinity Lutheran Church in Peoria as head organist for decades and was on the committee that chose their enormous pipe organ almost 50 years ago.
Back in October 2022, Mom fell. She cracked her pelvis and broke her left wrist. A younger person would have undergone surgery to put the wrist back together. But Mom is 92, and her doctors advised against surgery. So she spent a couple of months in a cast. Only recently has she begun to regain dexterity in her fingers.
Mom also has dementia. It's tough on her, as she struggles to recall things that were discussed 60 seconds ago. But I praise God that we still have her around and she recognizes all of her family and calls us by name.
She and my dad, Max, live at Lutheran Hillside Village. Mom no longer has a piano in her apartment, but there's one in a commons area just outside the main dining area. I was out there yesterday, helping them with some stuff. She stopped at the piano, sat down and played this by ear; a sweet and beautiful testimony.
I had to wipe my eyes.
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