Instruments

Today I found Matisse’s oboe under the study couch. Matisse is an expert oboe player, but hasn't played regularly since about 2013. In high school, she was the section leader in the symphonic band for two years. Since Matisse was here for Sunday dinner, I invited her to play with me. I have played the flute since 6th grade. I played from 6th grade to 10th grade, but I never did make it into the symphonic band. I enjoy playing, but decided it wasn’t what I wanted to put all of my effort into. So, I haven't played regularly since about 10th grade. However, both out of practice, we decided to give some duets a whirl.

It honestly felt good playing the flute again. I am sure that Matisse enjoyed playing her oboe, too. Since quitting band, some part of me has always missed playing with the large assortment of instruments, all working together to produce a beautiful masterpiece. Playing some duets with Matisse tonight helped quench my thirst to produce something musically bigger than myself.

Our house hasn’t really been filled with the sound of instruments playing since Dad and Spencer passed away. They both played the piano. Dad would play by ear––any tune he knew, he would play right away without any practice. (He was the music director in Bolivia on his LDS mission, but previous to the calling had never played an instrument, so he learned on the spot.) Spencer would work on one piece for a few months, master it, and play so elegantly, bringing peace to all who listened. From Spencer and Dad’s piano playing, a chain reaction would occur: Mom would be prompted to practice her harp, Sam would pull out his trumpet and play a few tunes, Matisse would play some old pieces of music on her oboe, and I would want to join in with my flute. It was the best when we all spontaneously played together. But now, as our family’s numbers have decreased, hearing any instrument being played brings back that sense of comfort and joy felt when we all played together.