3rd
EUPHONIOUSNESS
Today is my Mother’s 78th birthday and if I was still a little girl, and would ask her, ‘Mommy, what can I buy you for your birthday?’ she would say, ‘Honey, you don’t need to buy me anything. You can make me something, because that would mean more to me.’ I am no longer a little girl who finger-paints and makes macaroni necklaces, but I can write, so I have decided to compose a present for you, Mom. I hope you like it.
When I was six years old, you introduced me to the euphoniousness of music, almost through the back door, since I was just trying to get out of dance classes, and the deal we struck was that I would take piano lessons in exchange, because you had always wanted to learn yourself.
What a world opened up for me at that piano, first in my brain and then in my heart. I took structured training from Mrs. Babcock every Wednesday afternoon at 3p.m. for eleven years. An exacting disciplinarian, Mabel Babcock was an enlightened and proper English gentlewoman with wired rimmed glasses and a precise metronome that sat on the edge of her baby grand piano marking out time, in the front room of her house on Thomas Avenue at the south end of town.
During the time I took those lessons, I learned my musical theory, which helped me understand why I could see something akin to mathematical solutions in my mind, when you took me to the Fresno Philharmonic Symphony Concerts in downtown Fresno once a month or so. First of all, we couldn’t go unless we were dressed up, which means that you would open your special closet containers and I might get to use one of your necklaces or purses. When I sat in those red cushioned seats with my eyes closed and they played Bach, (he was always my favorite), because to me he made perfect sense. He finished when he should finish and every song was resolved in my head, just like a completed math equation. Copeland was also fun, like a rollercoaster ride and you made me feel important, going with you like an adult.
After I became a grown woman, had children of my own and moved to a town away from my family and friends, you gave me the old Baldwin Grand that I practiced on for those eleven years. Many days when I was lonely or sad, it was your melodious gift that I leaned on, because, as you know, I had discovered how to make my own kind of music on it. I have told you before, but that Baldwin’s bottom register is so full that its reverberation moves your very soul, if you play it just right. I have learned how to play it just right. When I am full of joy, its sweet harmonious voice billows through the house in celebration. It is an irreplaceable gem.
Many people think that they are blessed to have the euphony of music in their lives and to an extent I believe that they are, but I think you understand, Mom, that those who can make their own music are the twice blessed. To that I will add that I am even more blessed, because I was given this present of music from my own Mother’s heart, motivated by her love for me, and the knowledge that if music could impact my life as it has her own, she could smile.
Today, Mom, I give you that smile for your birthday.
I love you,
Susan Ardith
“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” Red Auerbach
