dad's piano

I love the piano.

I learned to play from my Dad. As a toddler, he would sit me on his knee with my hands on his. And he would play. By ear. Beautifully. At the Beale upright.

This is how I first learned music. By ear. By his hands.

I keep coming back to piano. I still have his Beale. I had it refurbished by Martin Tucker a few years ago. I've recorded with it.

My dad died when I was seven. He was thirty-nine. He died six weeks after diagnosis. Lymphosarcoma.

It's so meaningful to me how I feel his presence more acutely, the older I get. I'm so grateful to him – and of course my mother too, who remembers him lovingly – for my life, and for music being such a part of my DNA. All these years I have had to live. And enjoy my own kids, now all grown. Such a gift he gave me.

Do what you love. Pass it on.