Around the house, I make a lot of noise – slamming doors, drawers, and cupboards – but where’s the music in that? I tend to break coffee mug handles and chip plates whenever I put things away. I grip everything too tightly, including my tennis racquet. How could I show my son to gently play a violin? I rented a violin thinking I could change my past and somehow nurture James’s musical abilities. I arrived at James’s first lesson, violin in tow, only to discover that I was the only parent who had rented an instrument. I tried to remain cool while I waited my turn along with the rest of the students for the teacher to tune our violins. Every week I attended a group lesson with my son, led by the teacher. There was lots of repetition and progress was painfully slow, but James’s teacher was extremely patient and encouraging of all students, including me. He gently corrected finger placement, adjusted posture, and encouraged everyone to loosen their death grips. I was in awe of his tenacity and passion for teaching us how to play. However, I have to confess that I couldn’t wait to play something other than “Mississippi Hot Dog.” At home, the first sounds James and I produced while moving the bow erratically across the violin strings caused our dog Ruby to howl. Her plaintive wail still puzzles me; did she want to join our violin lollapalooza, or did she want us to stop? After several weeks of practice, our tone improved a little – although Ruby continued to howl. I came to realize, though, that James had progressed much faster than me. “James, where the heck is B note?” I asked. “Here, Mom,” he said, pointing to the second, or
50 | Kristine Bruneau