Generational Traditions

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I’ve mentioned to you before about the many childhood weekends I would spend at my Grandparents house, eating meals around the Formica table and playing cards until all hours of the night with my beloved Grandma.  Almost every story about them revolve around some sort of mischief my grandmother and I would get into that would culminate in one of us me rolling around on their ugly brown rugs, laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

My grandfather’s role in these weekends was that of best supporting actor.  He forever played the straight man for my grandmother’s various antics and served as the voice of reason for our late night endeavours - with the exception of the KFC surprise night, of course.

There was another side to my strict and practical grandfather, though, that came out each night at bedtime.  Perhaps in an effort to quell the stimulating effects my grandmother had had on me all day, or maybe just to show me affection in his own unique way, my grandpa would tuck me into the blue bed a the end of the hallway and then sit down and play the organ for me until I fell asleep.

I can remember clearly the thin, peely, blue duvet cover and the tiny crack of light that would stream through the bedroom door; I always insisted he leave it open a crack so I could be sure to hear him play.

I have no idea how long he would play for, but I remember the calmness and sweetness of those moments, lying perfectly still, trying desperately to stay awake so I could hear his organ playing until the very end…

I am happy to report that the grand piano that I bought on kijiji has made its way safely to our new house and has now since been exposed to the more sophisticated works of Beethoven and Chopin (in addition to the occasional round of Old MacDonald Had a Farm, of course - -a classic is a classic…)

Seeing as it is in the very front open room of our house, its majestic sound echoes through every crevice and room of our house when it is played.  I don’t think I’ve ever played something with such a gorgeous sound, but having young kids around means limiting my playing time to be that of awake time…when the kids are both preoccupied and not in need of my attention…which doesn’t amount to much! I often play for them on weekend mornings while sipping my coffee, or after dinner when we feel like dancing to some music.  Tonight, I tried a new technique

As I was putting Mia down for bed I asked her if she’d like me to play her a song while she went to sleep.  She thought that sounded like an EXCELLENT idea, but knowing Mia it was probably just a calculated scheme to get to stay awake later…Toby thought it was a good idea, too and even suggested I start with Chopin’s Raindrops Prelude because it was raining out.

I sat down and played Chopin’s Raindrops prelude to the quiet darkness of a house post bedtime with the soft sounds of the rain in the background.   I finished the piece with a pause before I heard in the background the sounds of Toby holding his breath from the top of the stairs.

“Mommy…” he whispered cautiously, “Could you please play me something else?”

I was so touched by his enthusiasm that I neglected to reprimand him for being out of bed.

“Sure, honey” I responded, “What else do you want to hear?”

“Ooh…BEETHOVEN.” He said, “One of the ones that go LOUD and then SOFT.  And THEN I want to hear the Moonlight sonata.  Cause it’s night time and the MOON is out…”

It was JUST what I was in the mood to play.

As I was about to sit down and play my son’s sweet requests he whispered one last thing to me,

“Mommy…” he said (still at the top of the stairs…he is a master bargainer, this one…)

“Yes, Toby” I said from the piano bench

“…. I just wish you could play for me all night long.” He said in the most earnest and genuine way possible.  “I just love listening…”

As I sat down to play my son some Beethoven to fall asleep to, I was overcome with happiness and contentment at the ingenious the circle of life.

For the first time in a long time I thought of my grandfather.  I have such fond memories of his organ playing, but was suddenly hit with a new appreciation for it, seeing it now from the other side.  I don’t know if he knows how much I enjoyed it, but I sincerely hope I thanked him enough for all the hours he spent playing for me, and I hope I did so with the same unadulterated excitement that Toby now has for mine.  I’m so thankful for the good, simple things in life that can be passed down from generation to generation…