I absolutely love the ABBA song - Thank You For The Music. I know you know it too. I can hear you humming it right now……………….

“I’m nothing special, in fact I’m a bit of a bore. If I tell a joke, you’ve probably heard it before. But I have a talent, a wonderful thing - Cause everyone listens when I start to sing - I’m so grateful and proud - All I want is to sing it out loud!

So I say - thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing. Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing. Who can live without it? I ask in all honesty - what would life be? Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say - thank you for the music, for giving it to me.

Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk. She says, I began to sing long before I could talk. And I’ve often wondered, how did it all start - Who found out that nothing can capture a heart - like a melody can? Well, whoever it was - I’m a fan.

I’ve been so lucky - I’m the girl with golden hair - I wanna sing it out to everybody- What a joy - what a life - what a chance!

Thank you for the music - the songs I’m singing. Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing. Who can live without it? I ask in all honesty - what would life be? Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say - thank you for the music - for giving it to me.”

I started taking piano lessons when I was seven years old. My first teacher was Mrs. Gardner. She taught me the discipline of regular practice - technique first and then my pieces and that discipline served me well for the next several years. I got up early each weekday morning - and practiced before I went to school - five days a week. (It drove my brothers crazy). My second teacher was a nun - Sister Robiard - and Sister was my teacher through grades 4 - 8. She had two pianos in her studio and we often played the same piece at the same time. She knew every song in every book. She was a living - walking - playing metronome. I loved her. I had my grade 8 piano by the time I finished elementary school and her encouragement was the main reason.

My Gramma Castle was also a huge influence in my life musically. She loved to play and sing and every time she came to our home - you’d find us both on the piano bench - pounding out British songs and our favourite hymns. My Gramma played and sang loud and proud and so do I! Oh, how I loved her. Gramma had a stroke when I was eleven and passed away seven years later. I think of her often when I play and sing. I’m grateful for how “instrumental” she was in my life musically and spiritually.

I started teaching piano and voice lessons when our boys were preschoolers. It was my joy to teach hundreds of students for the next 35 years. When the boys were 7, 8 and 9 - I decided I wanted to pursue more lessons. My goal was to achieve the grade 9 standard from the Toronto Conservatory - both the practical and theory. I asked a friend - who was an accomplished musician in Listowel and she became my third teacher. She inspired me as she taught. I practiced with the mute pedal down in the evenings after the boys were in bed and asleep. I rehearsed my grade nine repertoire and technical requirement for 18 months until I was finally ready to take the exam. I hadn’t taken a piano exam for about 15 years. I was nervous but ready and well prepared.

I told the following story to a friend just this past week about that grade 9 exam.

I arrived at the exam centre in Kitchener - full of confidence - but it wasn’t too long before the examiner made me feel extremely uncomfortable and nervous by his attitude and words. My fingers shook from the beginning and I struggled through the technique - I made mistakes in my pieces that I carefully memorized and my ear tests were not much better. I held in the tears until I exited the exam room and got in the car with Randy. I was disappointed and frustrated and angry. I phoned my teacher when I got home and shared what had happened. My teacher heard from other students that they had experienced the same thing and reported the examiner’s antics to the Conservatory at the University of Toronto. Later I heard they had let the examiner “go”. I did pass - but barely. I loved the theory and history courses that accompanied acquiring grade 9 - and excelled on those written exams. I began working on grade 10 piano but about 6 months into my preparation, my mother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer and Randy and I spent many days driving back and forth from Listowel to Burlington. My practicing evenings were few and farther between. After several months, my sweet “mil” passed away and I never did get back to those pieces. Grade 10 was permanently put out to sea.

Besides piano - I loved to sing. I sang in choirs at school and church - and it wasn’t long before I started singing solos. In elementary school I played Mary one year in the Christmas concert and a few years later, played Mrs. Santa. Both parts called for vocal solos. I sang solos often at church and in the Kiwanis festival. In my teen years I was asked to sing for several weddings. I never did take formal singing lessons - my voice - my mom said - was “God-given”. I studied voice on my own and soon, parents asked me to teach their children how to sing.

One of my best memories of teaching vocal students was while I was working at the Christian school in Guelph. I was introduced to a young girl who had a noticeable stutter while speaking but I quickly learned that when she was singing, the stutter disappeared. As the music teacher at the school, it was responsibility to choose the program for the Christmas concert. That particular year I asked my young vocal student if she would like to sing a solo at the program. She said yes and she managed to keep that fact a secret from her parents. We rehearsed and she was perfectly ready for the big night. That evening was magical and unforgettable for my student, her parents and for me. The lights in the audience were low - and the spot light shone on that young girl. She sang perfectly. After the evening came to a close, her parents rushed to hug their daughter and me too. It was a wonderful night that I’m sure they never forgot. I know I haven’t.

I’m delighted that most of my grandchildren have taken piano lessons and have sung or still sing in their school choirs. Some have participated in music and drama camps in the summer time. Last week I was delighted to attend THE NATIONALS - MUSIC FEST CANADA - where my grand-daughter - Sara - participated in two events. Her Ottawa school qualified to attend the prestigious event - in band and their jazz choir. While I certainly enjoyed the band’s performance, it was the jazz choir I was most interested in. Sara was the accompanist for the choir. They performed three songs and Sara played to perfection - she was as cool as a cucumber - ice in her veins. It’s not an easy task to accompany a choir or small group or a soloist. I cried. It was a proud moment for the two grandmothers and auntie and cousin who went to hear Sara perform.

My Mom used to tell me - that as a little girl I sang all day long - at home, walking along the side walk, in the car - everywhere. When I went away to college and then got married, Mom also used to tell me that when I left home, so did the music. She told me that the house was too quiet - the piano didn’t get played - songs didn’t get sung - too quiet.

In the weeks before Mom passed away, we played the old familiar hymns for her all day long. Often I would crawl in her bed with her and sing to her. She was very weak but always her lips were moving and her toe was tapping in time to the music. What comfort the words of those hymns were to us. What peace they brought to Mom in her last earthly days. What a great reminder of the promises of heaven.

As ABBA wrote - I’m grateful for the music - I’m grateful for the joy music has brought me all my life thus far - really who can live without music?