My life is all about music. Even when I was little and could not read music, I still banged on the piano keys until I came up with a pretty little tune. As time passed my tunes became more sophisticated but I had no idea what I was playing. That did not matter because as long as I could translate my raw emotions into beautiful sounds, I was okay.
My mom persuaded me to take piano lessons and I loved them. I loved pressing down the ivory keys and hearing it respond with beautiful sounds. I revolved around music, the pieces I was playing and my weekly piano lessons. My love grew and music became part of my entire being. But one day my grandma died. I knew she had been sick for a long time but I always thought that she would get better. My family had expected this outcome so they were able to cry at the funeral and helped each other heal. I could not cry or heal. I tried to calm the chaos in my mind with music but I found that I could not play. Later I discovered that everything that had once been normal had changed over night. I used to love mystery books but now I hated them. But music was part of me that could not be erased so I kept on trying to play piano. I would sit on the piano bench, rest my fingers on the keys and start to play but my mind would wander and I would mess up. I would keep trying to play for hours until I was either in tears or furious. I gave up on music, my friends, soccer, mystery books, and everything else that had once defined me.
As time went on, it became difficult to avoid music. There was a huge piano in my house and my brother was in the band. Plus, my parents wanted me to join band. I joined because my friends were in band. Slowly music crept into my life and I started to love music again when I started playing the oboe. At first I hated the oboe because as a beginner I sounded like a dying duck. But something drove me to practice and my sound became musical. Suddenly, the oboe had become a part of me.
Someone’s soul is like a body. When the body or soul is hurt so are all the organs or parts of the soul. When my grandma died my soul was scarred, including the music part. Many things helped me to heal but music played the most important role. I became determined not to fail which explains why I spent so long trying to play the piano and why I practiced on the oboe. Music gave me something to work for and live for. This is why I believe that music can heal. I am living proof of music’s ability to soothe someone with its notes and chords.
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