Hello Beautiful Mama,
This month I have a question for you. Maybe a simple one, maybe not.
Who were you before your journey to ‘mother‘ – pregnant mother, loss mother, mother to a new baby, mother wherever you are today?
Who were you? Well, the truth is, you were you and you still are you, but what did you love? What were your passions?
Did you dance? Did you sing? Did you hike endlessly? Did you read poetry?
A side effect of our loss – a byproduct of the person we are today is potentially the loss of babies – and sometimes more – the loss of parts of ourselves.
Before any of this pregnancy and loss journey began, I played piano. Often. I played for myself, I played for others, I found joy and peace in my music. I started playing at the age of four. I recall my older sister starting her lessons and being determined to play as well. My feet couldn’t touch the pedals, but I swung my legs anyway, to and fro, all the same.
At the piano keys, playing “3 Little Bears” and “Hot Cross Buns,” I was at home.
I played throughout school – all the way up through college. Regardless of what was going on in my life, my personal music was there. It was healing. It was part of me.
Then college came. Dorms didn’t have pianos, I didn’t view it as a priority to pursue, and I only played when I back in my childhood home. But every time I sat at that bench and my fingers touched those blessed keys, an energy ran through my being that equally grounded me and sent me straight to Spirit.
And then I got pregnant. And lost him. And then I got pregnant again. And lost her.
At that point I took lessons again. I figured if I had a teacher explicitly telling me what to do at those open ended keys I might find a path to healing that piece of me. Somehow, it wasn’t the same.
After some time came my sweet and intense son. Quickly after, my sympathetic and spunky girl. Life has been full and filled with blessings.
My heart couldn’t be more full.
And yet. Somewhere along the way, I left pieces of myself behind. Life moved forward quickly, but a part of my personal music got lost.
We had a small electric piano in my home, but it wasn’t the same. I tried – I really did. I attempted my old songs and even to teach my kids on the little piano. But it never felt the same.
This past Saturday – My piano came home. To my home.
My parents sold the house I grew up in, and my piano was headed for a garage sale (or something) – back to where it had come from so many years before. I couldn’t let it go. It was the one thing I needed here, across the country from my childhood home.
My piano arrived on Saturday afternoon, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I haven’t yet looked at it or touched it without subsequent tears of joy running down my face. I keep hugging it.
My piano from childhood is home. I can’t explain how much this means to me – or why.
Long ago, I innately knew life was meant to be filled with music, that time at the piano keys was indeed time well spent. When ” real life” happened, I put that part aside. I forgot part of my spirit was ignited by the feel of keys beneath my fingers, by the sound of tunes both new and old, ringing out from the sound board. I forgot.
Now, with my old piano, my sweet friend, tucked snugly in my family room – my heart feels so whole.
The enormity of my emotion about a PIANO continues to surprise me. Which leads me to ask you – Who were you before this journey? What passion have you left behind?
Go Find It. It will heal you. The passions you had as a child are part of you. Remembering who you were originally will help you back to yourSelf. You deserve it. Further, I can promise you – all our babies – all of them – the ones we hold, and the ones we only hold in our hearts – they want us to be happy. They are rooting for us to share our talents, joys, loves with the world.
Rediscover the part of you that you’ve lost. It’s a huge part of healing. Love (and music) to you.