I
haven’t had a full-time work gig for quite a while now, not since I left my
more-than-full-time job in marketing research at the end of 2010. Since then, I’ve had independent contractor
and part-time gigs in research and in health coaching, as well as maintaining
my own private coaching practice. These
paid gigs are critical to my survival and fulfilling in many other ways too,
but today I worked a couple of the unpaid gigs that give me the most
satisfaction of all. I played piano for
groups of residents at two assisted living communities here in Cincinnati, one called
Bridgeway Pointe that caters to men and women of all ages and the other a home
for retired Franciscan sisters. I have a
third that I play for regularly too – a somewhat more upscale facility called
The Kenwood that is located on a hillside overlooking downtown and that has a lovely
baby grand in the music room – a huge bonus for me! I try to schedule it so that I do the first
two back-to-back on a weekday afternoon (usually Wednesday) and the other on
the Saturday afternoon before or after that Wednesday. That way I can work up a program for all
three, perform it, and then have a little bit of a breather before getting
serious about the next month’s program development and practice.
I’ve
played piano since I was a very little girl – my mom had my brother and me at
the piano as soon as we were able to sit still for more than a few
minutes! And she taught us both until we
were about junior-high age; then we graduated to lessons with an amazing music
professor at North Dakota State University, where our dad was on the Chemistry
faculty. My brother Paul went on to
become a professional musician and entertainer, still working steadily on
cruise ships that go all over the world.
I went on to embrace different interests and priorities, career- and
family-wise. My piano playing ebbed and
flowed over the years but mainly ebbed until those priorities shifted to allow me
the time and space in my brain and heart to take it up again. I took a year or two of classical lessons and
a scant year of jazz piano lessons (such a different language!!!), and
eventually an opportunity presented itself to play for one of the assisted
living communities mentioned above. The
additional contacts and opportunities came through a women’s networking group a
year later, and I am so grateful for them all.
It makes such a difference to me to be able to practice
with a goal in mind – a program to think about and plan, and people to play
for. It also is wonderful to practice at
home for someone who appreciates my playing.
So, as I was driving home this
afternoon after playing for the retired nuns and the Bridgeway Pointe
residents, I was just glowing inside. I
felt great and I knew that I had brightened the days of about 25 wonderful
people whose days aren’t always that bright.
I’ve been volunteering for four full years now, and during that time
residents have come to rely on wheelchairs and oxygen tanks. Their posture has weakened and their awareness
dimmed, and sometimes, of course, they pass away. I can be sitting in my living room practicing
alone and get all teary from a piece of music – when I’m playing for my
residents, I often have to pause and take a calming breath, so that I don’t
break down.
What keeps it light is the lack of inhibition and slight
craziness of the environments in these homes – and I write that with fondness
and affection. Here is a list of what
happened just today at my two performances:
1)
As usual, residents kept coming in and jostling
around with their wheelchairs and aides for the first 20 minutes of our
40-minute time;
2)
One resident wore a pink hooded sweatshirt
despite the heat, and then when I glanced up while playing, I noticed that while
the hood was down, she was scrunching it up with her hands to cover her ears –
yikes!
3)
Loud guffaws erupted from one gentleman
throughout the performance, for no apparent reason
4)
Alex the therapy dog (a fluffy and friendly
Bichon) and his owner entered and started walking around the room visiting
audience members during the Tchaikovsky
5)
One nun fell sound asleep (love this!)
6)
I heard a heartfelt story from another nun about
her childhood; she said she’d not remembered that story until just today,
though she’s told it to me many times (sometimes lost memories are a gift – one
is then able to remember them again and again?)
7)
Sadly, a couple of my “regulars” looked very out
of it today, one in particular seemed so much smaller than last month, in
stature and presence/energy
8)
Happily, it was M’s birthday and she had a
bright balloon tied to her wheelchair and a special guest visitor whom she was
so proud to introduce to me
9)
As always, they so sweetly applauded and asked
after my children and when I was coming next time
I can’t end before mentioning a certain woman whom I’ve
not seen for a while, but I will never forget the first time she came to one of
my little concerts. She came in a little
late, in a wheelchair and with an aide, and when the aide introduced her she
said nothing, just looked startled and was quite shaky. However, the aide said that she had performed
as an opera singer in her earlier years, and when I began playing Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata a few minutes later, she began singing the melody in a clear,
haunting voice. I have tears streaming
down my face now, remembering it.
I have a lot of reasons for not wanting to again commit
myself to an all-consuming job; surely one of the best ones is that I need to allot
a meaningful amount of my time to practicing for performing these monthly piano
gigs – for the dear residents’ sake, and for my own.
