A Regret in Black and White Keys

What skill would I like to learn?

For me, it’s piano.

I know a little guitar—just enough to strum a tune—but not enough to do anything meaningful with it. And sure, I can peck out “Chopsticks,” but that’s about the limit of my piano playing.

Mom tried to teach all three of us—Jeff, Cheryl, and me—how to play. But having your mom as the piano teacher is like having spinach on the dinner plate: you find ways to push it around and avoid it. If she had bitten the bullet and paid for formal lessons, I think we might have taken it seriously.

And I wish I had. Because if I’d really learned piano, I think I’d be using it now to lead worship. I love worship. I love being part of it. And I wish I had that skill to contribute in a way that goes beyond just my voice.

People tell me it’s never too late. But at 58, it feels like it is. There never seems to be enough time—in the day, in the week, or even in the rest of my life—to start from scratch and really learn the instrument. Maybe someone can convince me otherwise. Until then, this one goes down as one of my regrets.

About Douglas Blaine

Capnpen is a writer who was a newspaper and magazine journalist in a previous life. A college journalism major, he now works as an English teacher, but gets his writing fix by blogging about a variety of topics, including politics, religion, movies and television. When he's not working or blogging, Capnpen spends time with his family, plays a little golf (badly) and loves to learn about virtually anything.

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