Right after I had the stroke I remember looking at my hand. Just staring at it for hours; trying to get it to open. I remember I would take a deep breath and just literally stare at my hand. I really don’t know what I expected to happen, because just because you want something to happen doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to happen. So after staring at it for about 10 seconds I would take another deep breath and try with all the strength I had to make my hand open. I remember the muscular pain and how I could get some of my fingers up but not all. And then I would try wiggling my fingers. That didn’t happen at all.
Just then I thought about the piano. I never until that moment realized how strong my wish to try for Juliard was until it seemed impossible. I couldn’t even open my hand from a fist and forget moving any of your fingers independently. I felt as though trying for Juliard was impossible. And everytime I looked at a piano or a keyboard my heart sank to the floor. My mother had told the occupational therapists that I played and they all sang the song of, “Oh that would be awesome for OT.” But when they came into my room and I couldn’t even open my hand from a fist that was so tight my knuckles were white and I had bright pink nail marks in my palm, tears filled my eyes. And I decided then that I never wanted to play the piano again.
As the years passed and I was intensively doing occupational therapy to try and get some movement in my arm, wrist and hand/fingers back, I thought about the piano a lot. It was like my brain was two people. One side said try it but the other side said not a chance. I began thinking of St. Cecilia and her harp. I questioned things a lot. Why if I had all this talent would it be so savagely stripped from me? Why wasn’t Saint Cecilia helping me? She was a saint right? So she must have had some sort of super human ability... (not really) but I just very childishly thought that by my praying to her she would make my hand all better. Little did I know that everything that lead up to the stroke and the next 10 years would be the most painful years of my life. But I learned more about music during this time than I ever could. And I never sat down at the piano not even once. I would walk by it in my house, and stare at it. Almost like I was trying to telepathically speak to it. But it had turned itself into something I hated but at the same time, something I needed and loved with all my heart.
When I picked St. Cecilia as my saint for confirmation I had absolutely no idea that during my later high school and college years she would take a starring role in virtually everything I did. I thought about piano all the time. I told myself that I wanted to start again. But at the same time I was so afraid, because it wasn’t just my fingers that I couldn’t move anymore. I didn’t have the strength in my lower leg and foot to pedal anymore. My entire arm ached when I tried to play a scale. My entire view of music had been transformed from something I loved into something I loathed. And I was heartbroken. So I turned my sorrows into prayers. I asked God if he really wanted me to play the piano then have Saint Cecilia speak to me through music (not really knowing if this would happen or not).
I was in college and I suddenly figured out I needed a fine art to graduate. I was looking through at the classes that they had and thought, art? Nope can’t move your fingers. Piano 101. That should be easy considering you have about 16 years worth of piano theory stored in your head. No one needs to know you played and plus it was long enough ago that you can fake it. And who knows maybe this will be good for you. And so I signed up for piano 101. The first day of class came and the first words to come out of the teachers mouth were welcome to piano 101. Raise your hands how many people here have at least 3 years or more of piano experience as well as theory? And I thought don’t say anything don’t say anything, and then she said the one thing that always makes me feel horrible tell the truth lol. And so I raised my hand. She looked at me and simply said how long, and honestly at that very moment I was thinking lie through your teeth, but then I thought she’s a nun so I’ll probably go to Hell if I lie to a nun, and so I sort of rolled my eyes and said like 13 years but I very quickly followed that up with but I haven’t played in like 4 years I swear. And she literally said, “get out”. And I was just like,” what? Are you seriously kicking me out of this class”. She said I want you in piano 240. And I was just sort of looking at her with a sort of dumbfounded look on my face. Really I was thinking shit. You could have just kept your mouth shut and faked it... But piano 240 ended up being one of the best classes I took that semester.
I realized when I sat down at that piano and put my fingers on the cold keys I had this feeling. And the first couple of times I played I couldn’t exactly place that feeling, but I knew it felt familiar and I knew I liked it. As I moved on in that semester I realized that feeling was joy. I realized why I had felt so sad in the past few years. I remembered the joy music brought to my life. And even though my fingers were and still are pretty much paralyzed I’ve been able to play. And that semester I was able to play well enough to get a decent grade. I means she knew my story and so I think she was sort of lenient. But all through that semester when I would practice and my hands and fingers would ache with exhaustion I would look at the picture I printed out of Saint Cecilia. I would lock eyes with this picture and it was almost like she was speaking to me. Telling me she knew how hard this was but to just remember the joy music brought to my life and in that exact moment I realized it didn’t matter how well I played or if I could play an entire Bach invention with 0 mistakes. It was all about that intense joy I felt in my heart when I played. It wasn’t really about how good I was or how accomplished I could become. And only then (9 years after I was confirmed) did I realize the true reason I picked St. Cecilia as my patron saint for Confirmation.
