I hated waking up early in the morning to practice music. All I wanted to do was burry myself under the covers and hope that mom wouldn't come knocking on my bedroom door. Many mornings I lazily stumbled downstairs and slouched myself onto the piano bench. My right elbow rested itself on the edge of the music stand and my left hand began at the bottom of whatever scale I was practicing. I remember purposefully trying to impress my parents by composing my own little jingle or performing a recital for all my dolls and stuffed animals. Sometimes I felt motivated, but other times I remember feeling like music practice was a chore I had to check of the list.

I don't really remember my "getting going" years, because I was so young. Those first few steps of learning how to read music or curve my fingers a certain way are in the depths of my memory. I hated the drive to piano lessons when I got a little older. I didn't want to get out of the car. My teacher would sometimes be disappointed by my progress, and I remember that feeling of disappointment being one of the worst feelings I ever experienced as a young girl. I was so frustrated when I couldn't get a rhythm right, or learn a piece fast enough. Piano recitals and performing in front of family were what it took for my eight-year-old self to presevere.

Growing up with music in the house is something I will never forget. It was such a huge part of my childhood, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Trips to the music store were some of my favorites. I loved looking at all the violins on the walls, and all the harps in a line. I used to dig my little hand into the plastic bucket of guitar picks, and I still remember the sensation of rubbing my fingers along either side and digging around the bucket for the smoothest one. The soft, silicone-like texture was my favorite. My grade school pencil case was filled with the free pencils that came in the bag of every purchase from the music store. My favorite charm on my charm bracelet was the miniature piano with three tiny keys; two white, and one black.

With time and hard work came the awards and accolades. Every purple ribbon I received at a recital was stashed in my desk drawer and I loved looking at my ever growing stack when I opened that drawer. I had dreams of being a professional piano player for some private jazz club or event combo band when I was young. I looked up to the greats, in hopes of being just like them someday. I became serious about my passion and practiced as much as I could every year I grew older. I was playing everything from Broadway show tunes to Baroque style pieces. I was the entertainer, the performer and lover of everything that had to do with my instrument.

Years passed and all of a sudden I am a busy college student. Sometimes I act like I'm some sort of widow, as if I no longer have what used to fill my life with so much joy. Now that I'm a "grown up" and no longer spend mornings resting my elbow and stretching my left hand, I guess I have crossed the bridge I never thought I would cross. I have always hated the word, "quit." Because I didn't quit. I never thought to myself, "I don't want to do this anymore." What really happened, is life moved on and I now have other things I am interested in: my career, my job, my social life, all of which take up the majority of my time. Sitting here writing about it makes me a little sad. Even still, how I look at my life now and what my life used to be like is totally up to me. I'm still the entertainer. I'm still the performer. What I entertain with and who I perform as may have a different title than what it did years ago. I will always be known as the piano girl, and that's okay. It's what made me who I am. It's what makes me, me.

Hey, future kids. My gift to you is my music, I hope you love it as much as I did. Use it to your advantage, it will give you many rewards and bring you so much joy. Never forget who really gave you the gift that keeps on giving. Thank Him first, then your momma.

My children, someday you will die. You will ascend into heaven and your favorite hymns will surround you and the Angels will sing for you. When you arrive at the throne of our King, play for Him your favorite song.