I just finished my initial order for trophies and other awards to present at our June Awards Recital and the first trophy in my shopping cart was the Sara Memorial Cup. We present this trophy to the year’s most dedicated piano student along with our check for $1,000 with the award presented to the deserving student by Sara’s parents in her honor.
Thus I am going to digress from TMV’s usual menu of political articles and tell you the story of a young girl by the name of Sara. It’s a story that has been in the forefront of my mind for almost 5 years. About 10 years ago a young girl, age 7, started piano lessons with me. Her name was Sara and at her first lesson she informed me with a startling bit of maturity that “there is no H at the end of my name, if you please”.
She was a typical student, not especially talented, but improving in fits and starts. She seemed to enjoy her lessons and practiced during the week between lessons, something not every student does. Year by year she improved and always seemed to have smile on her face when she came to lessons. By her 5th year she was starting to play regular Classical literature, Bach, Beethoven, Chopin etc.
It was about this time when I started to notice that sometimes she would look at the music and not know what note she should play. This was definitely not like Sara who was an excellent sight reader. Then she started to have problems moving her left hand to play the bass clef notes. Sara’s mother started noticing difficulties too along with Sara’s complaint about constant headaches.
So off to the doctors went Sara and sadly they diagnosed Brain Cancer. Then there was a year of brain operations and radiation treatment. This meant piano lessons became more sporadic and Sara’s progress in her piano skills stalled. But she came to lessons whenever she was able and still continued to play the piano at home. This sporadic lesson process left Sara very unsettled and she demanded her mom fix it so she could have her lessons every Tuesday and to have her medical treatment work around that schedule.
So we were all devastated when we learned that the cancer had returned and the name the doctors gave for her cancer, Glioblastoma. Even the name sounded evil. Consequently Sara went through more radiation and other medical procedures but insisted on having her Tuesday piano lessons. When she came, you could see the stress and pain on Sara’s face and how tired she seemed. She continued to be upset that the radiation caused her to lose all her beautiful blond hair. Even though her mom bought her a wig, Sara always thought it felt scratchy and she would take it off when she played it piano. She said “when it’s on I think about how my head itches, when its off I think about the music”. I had to fight back the tears at what had happened to the little girl with the Golden Smile. I had to keep it together for Sara.
Soon the cancer had moved to Sara’s optic nerves and made her blind. Yet Sara would come for her Tuesday piano lesson. She would tell me to put her thumb on Middle C and spread out her fingers to cover the next notes. From there she would know exactly how far to move her hand and fingers to cover the additional notes she would have to play for that particular piece of music. Because she would have to play only those pieces of music that she had already memorized we concentrated on the pieces she loved to play.
Month after month, every Tuesday at 4:30 there would be Sara waiting for her lesson to start. She actually improved in some facets, she would phrase sections of the music so tenderly and with such a delicate touch that I swear she was channeling the composer. She had a cute way of coming to terms with her disease – she called it “my troubles”. She told me that “ I always pack my troubles in my music bag and zip it up tight. After my troubles live with my music for awhile, they are not so mean to me”. This kind of positive attitude allowed Sara to live as close to a normal life as the cancer would allow. In fact, her mom said the only reason for Sara to still be alive is due to music.
But the cancer was relentless, day by day damaging more of her brain. There came a point when Sara was no longer able to control her left arm, the part of the brain that sent signals to those arm muscles was gone. She had to abandon going to school but now she had even more time for music. Unfortunately, without using her left arm, the bass notes in the music were missing and the music no longer sounded right to her. I told her she could come over to the house anytime during the day and I would help her play. I would scoot my chair over top the left side of the piano bench and play the left hand notes while she played the right hand.
Playing the bass notes with my right hand instead of my normal left hand was awkward. Sometimes when we played she would stop and tell me “ hey silly, that’s the wrong note” and we would burst into laughter. In those precious moments, once again I would see that golden smile emerge. The play times were never charged as lessons, they were as Sara called it “her play dates”, pun intended.
Tragically, the cancer could not be stopped and Sara deteriorated and the doctors at Sloan-Kettering said there was nothing more they could do. Sara took it well, even at the age of 12 she had the maturity of a 70 year old. She was very exact in her request for her funeral and at one visit to the hospital she handed me a note in her very precise print. She always complained about trying to read my cursive handwriting in her lesson assignment book.
On this note she wrote the names of 5 pieces of music she wanted played at her funeral, including asterisks on 3 of them she labeled as MUST be played. She told me I must be the one to play this music and I tried to refrain, telling her I did not know if I could handle it. She said “ you silly, you could play these songs with your eyes closed so it should be easy-peasey”. How could I explain to this brave little girl facing death, that the emotion of playing at her funeral would utterly incapacitate me,
Two weeks later, Sara was gone. I sat down to prepare for her funeral. She was right the songs were easy peasey but every time I tried to practice, I broke down in tears and was unable to finish practicing. When the family asked me to give Sara’s eulogy, I prayed harder than I ever have for G-d to give me the strength to handle this incredible moment.
At Sara’s funeral I played her three ‘Must Have” songs.
1 – Chopin – Prelude in Em This was played at Chopin’s funeral and Sara thought it would be a gas to have it played at her funeral.
2 – Bach – Prelude in C
3 – Rollin – Stars & Wind
It was not easy, I ended up sobbing so hard, I was becoming louder than the music and making mistakes. My wonderful wife came up to the piano and sat with me giving me the strength to finish the music. I then walked over to Sara’s coffin and with the family’s permission laid the first Sara Memorial Cup in Sara’s hands, to remain in her coffin forever. With that I leaned over and kissed her forehead and said goodbye and addressed the funeral attendees:
“First and foremost I want Sara to know I loved her and will always keep that love alive as long as I live. You were a very special little girl and everyone who met you came away with your smile on their faces. Whenever we close our eyes, there will you be smiling at us funny adults and in the background we will always hear the tinkle of the piano keys working on a musical melody. We want you to know that G-d has millions of pianos up in Heaven and they can make the music sound more glorious than any earthly piano. I’m sure that G-d has your name on at least one of those heavenly pianos. In fact, He has copies of every piece of music ever composed on Earth plus millions of even better pieces of music composed in Heaven. I can assure you that you will never run out of music to play.
We will always remember that “ troubles” can be packed away in a music bag and zipped up so they don’t take away from the wonder and excitement of Life. Remember when I told you that G-d sometimes puts obstacles in our life to make us stronger? You had the best answer, “if you run fast enough, you can jump over anything”. Yes Sara you were able to jump over mountains, something that was impossible for those who did not, or could not, believe.
You started your musical journey here on earth and I know you will complete it in Heaven. I just have one request will you promise to play for me, when I get to heaven. I can literally hear your answer “Of course silly, you’re my piano teacher”.