Chariots of Fire
Today marks the second anniversary of my dad's death. Can't believe two years have passed. A lot has happened and I would have loved to have had him around. (If you're new to my blog and you'd like to read about what happened to my dad, click here.)
You may be curious about the title of this post. There is a story behind "Chariots of Fire", it's a big part of my personal history, as well as my dad's. I thought today would be a good day to tell that story.
When I was probably about 14 years old I learned how to play Chariots of Fire on the piano. It quickly became Dad's favorite and when I'd be in the living room pounding the piano, he'd come in and sit down and say, "Play Chariots, Tam." I always gave him a hard time about it, acting like I was really put-out by his request. I truly wasn't, and I think he knew it was a facade. At least, I hope he knew.
When I was 15 we had a piano recital scheduled in December, just before Christmas. I was going through a rough time in my teenage life at this point and I wasn't getting along with my mom very well. Actually, there weren't very many adults that I did like then, Dad was the major exception. My piano teacher, Kathy, had assigned a piece for me to play at the recital and I had been practicing. I was planning to quit lessons after this performance so I wanted to do well. About a week before the recital, Dad said to me, "I'll give you $10 if you play Chariots at the recital instead of what you're supposed to play." (I no longer remember the name of my assigned piece.) I thought about Dad's offer for a bit and even though I knew he wasn't really being serious, I said I would do it. I quit practicing the other piece.
A few days before the recital, Dad realized I was really going to go through with the switch and he started back-pedaling, I think mostly because he knew there would be repercussions with Mom. I'll be honest, a big part of the reason I took Dad up on his offer was because I knew it would ruffle feathers and I didn't care.
The night of the recital came and I'm sure my parents were holding their breaths. I was one of the last students to play and when it was my turn, even though Kathy had announced my original assignment (poor Kathy was completely in the dark), I played Chariots instead. And I was right, it made some people pretty mad; my mom was livid. Dad wasn't mad at me , though. How could he be? It was his idea. I've always kinda thought that even though he couldn't express the fact that he was pleased with my performance (because he would have just been in more trouble), that he really enjoyed it and was secretly glad that I did it.
I never took piano lessons after that and I never did get my money but I still played Chariots for my dad on occasion. I have since realized how and why what I did at that recital wasn't the best choice and I'm sorry for the offense and hurt feelings that my actions caused. However, I have never, never regretted the choice I made to switch songs. I would do it again.
After Dad died, in the days leading up to his funeral, I found great comfort at the piano. I would sit and play for hours and hours. I have a digital piano and I would plug in the headphones so I could tune out everything else around me and just play. I would play late into the night after Brent and the kids had gone to bed. I probably played Chariots at least 100 times that week. Dad died on a Monday and that night my mom, my brothers, sister and I, along with our spouses all got together to begin planning the funeral. It was decided that each of us four kids would speak. Within a day I knew I'd play Chariots after my talk as a tribute to my dad. And, going with my theme of this particular song, there was an element of surprise. I told no one, not even Brent, that I was going to play it.
For a long time I felt that, as far as I was concerned, Chariots died with my dad. After the funeral, I put my sheet music away for about 14 months. I couldn't bring myself to play Chariots until January of this year. I just couldn't do it. I remember, it was a Sunday afternoon, the kids were having quiet time and Brent I were laying on our bed. I was laying with my head on his shoulder and I dozed off for a little while. When I awoke, I had a desire to sit down and play Chariots. So I did, but I used the headphones so nobody else heard me. I've played it quite a few times since then, but usually in private. For a long time I didn't think I'd ever be able to play it again. It kind of felt wrong. But I think Dad would want me to keep playing, so I will. Who knows, maybe he's listening.
I love you, Dad, and I miss you. I've recoreded Chariots for you. I think of you every time I hear or play it. I just thought that if you're somewhere where you can access my blog, you can listen to Chariots any time you want. :)
You may be curious about the title of this post. There is a story behind "Chariots of Fire", it's a big part of my personal history, as well as my dad's. I thought today would be a good day to tell that story.
When I was probably about 14 years old I learned how to play Chariots of Fire on the piano. It quickly became Dad's favorite and when I'd be in the living room pounding the piano, he'd come in and sit down and say, "Play Chariots, Tam." I always gave him a hard time about it, acting like I was really put-out by his request. I truly wasn't, and I think he knew it was a facade. At least, I hope he knew.
When I was 15 we had a piano recital scheduled in December, just before Christmas. I was going through a rough time in my teenage life at this point and I wasn't getting along with my mom very well. Actually, there weren't very many adults that I did like then, Dad was the major exception. My piano teacher, Kathy, had assigned a piece for me to play at the recital and I had been practicing. I was planning to quit lessons after this performance so I wanted to do well. About a week before the recital, Dad said to me, "I'll give you $10 if you play Chariots at the recital instead of what you're supposed to play." (I no longer remember the name of my assigned piece.) I thought about Dad's offer for a bit and even though I knew he wasn't really being serious, I said I would do it. I quit practicing the other piece.
A few days before the recital, Dad realized I was really going to go through with the switch and he started back-pedaling, I think mostly because he knew there would be repercussions with Mom. I'll be honest, a big part of the reason I took Dad up on his offer was because I knew it would ruffle feathers and I didn't care.
The night of the recital came and I'm sure my parents were holding their breaths. I was one of the last students to play and when it was my turn, even though Kathy had announced my original assignment (poor Kathy was completely in the dark), I played Chariots instead. And I was right, it made some people pretty mad; my mom was livid. Dad wasn't mad at me , though. How could he be? It was his idea. I've always kinda thought that even though he couldn't express the fact that he was pleased with my performance (because he would have just been in more trouble), that he really enjoyed it and was secretly glad that I did it.
I never took piano lessons after that and I never did get my money but I still played Chariots for my dad on occasion. I have since realized how and why what I did at that recital wasn't the best choice and I'm sorry for the offense and hurt feelings that my actions caused. However, I have never, never regretted the choice I made to switch songs. I would do it again.
After Dad died, in the days leading up to his funeral, I found great comfort at the piano. I would sit and play for hours and hours. I have a digital piano and I would plug in the headphones so I could tune out everything else around me and just play. I would play late into the night after Brent and the kids had gone to bed. I probably played Chariots at least 100 times that week. Dad died on a Monday and that night my mom, my brothers, sister and I, along with our spouses all got together to begin planning the funeral. It was decided that each of us four kids would speak. Within a day I knew I'd play Chariots after my talk as a tribute to my dad. And, going with my theme of this particular song, there was an element of surprise. I told no one, not even Brent, that I was going to play it.
For a long time I felt that, as far as I was concerned, Chariots died with my dad. After the funeral, I put my sheet music away for about 14 months. I couldn't bring myself to play Chariots until January of this year. I just couldn't do it. I remember, it was a Sunday afternoon, the kids were having quiet time and Brent I were laying on our bed. I was laying with my head on his shoulder and I dozed off for a little while. When I awoke, I had a desire to sit down and play Chariots. So I did, but I used the headphones so nobody else heard me. I've played it quite a few times since then, but usually in private. For a long time I didn't think I'd ever be able to play it again. It kind of felt wrong. But I think Dad would want me to keep playing, so I will. Who knows, maybe he's listening.
I love you, Dad, and I miss you. I've recoreded Chariots for you. I think of you every time I hear or play it. I just thought that if you're somewhere where you can access my blog, you can listen to Chariots any time you want. :)
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Comments
I think this was a great memory for you to record and I'm sure you dad is laughing about it too right now.
The song is beautiful, I haven't heard that one for a long while.. I bet he enjoyed you playing it again.
Big hugs. Song was beautiful!