BIG ACCOMPLISHMENTS HAVE SMALL BEGINNINGS

he flicker of candlelight doesn’t have a sound. But if it did, perhaps no sound better approximates it than the sweet warmth of the notes of a piano on a cold, dark, dreary midwinter’s evening. To this point in my life, I have not been blessed with the ability to coax such beauty from a melodic instrument. My wife, however, is a different story. And our kids? They just may, as well. But while showing promise, their musical journey has only just begun. Which makes the sounds they often produce on their instruments a bit more like a dusky living room, with a welcoming reading nook tucked in the corner, shockingly pierced every so often by the sudden flare of a dance club-grade strobe light. As I said, their musical journey has only just begun. Chords, notes, tempo, they are catching on and have progressed far already. And to be clear: Their teacher is doing an amazing job. I only wish I could contribute more to their musical training. With my aforementioned lack of melodic instrumental ability, though, perhaps the best I can offer them is a meditation on a beer my sister drank last fall in Chicago’s Grant Park. Looking back over 2022, I’m certain we all have a few accomplishments from which we can take pride. But it’s hard to top my sister’s feat. My sister – she only seven years my junior; in her professional life, an accomplished health care provider; in her personal life, devoted wife, and mother, with everything you can imagine wrapped up in those roles – my sister finished the Chicago Marathon. She’s certainly not the only person I know who has completed a marathon. Nor, remarkably, is she the first in our family to complete the Chicago Marathon. That distinction goes to my youngest brother, who completed the city’s big race as a teenager more than a decade ago. Unlike that brother, however, running has not always been a part of my sister’s existence. Up until a few years ago, to my knowledge, she had never even run around the block, much less an actual race through one of America’s biggest cities. But somehow, for some reason, at some point, as she entered middle age, this sister of mine laced up a pair of running shows and started off on an unlikely journey to the finish line in Grant Park and to the traditional beer that awaits all who complete the course. Like playing melodic instruments, a run of any distance – around the block, 5K, marathons, it makes no difference – is not a subject in my wheelhouse. So, if my young ones ever decide to follow in their aunt’s literal footsteps, as before, dad won’t be considered a fount of useful, task-specific advice. But on those occasions when, for instance, either of them slams their hands down on the piano keys or violently strums a guitar in frustration at not being able to nail a song quite yet, my sister’s example, or others like hers, can help reinforce the importance of simply sticking with it. To my knowledge, my sister didn’t start running with the intention of eventually finishing one of the most prominent foot races in the world. It just started. One day, she casually mentioned she had started running. Then, little by little, her distance increased. Her speed increased. Her body began to respond, molding day by day into the classic runner’s physique. So when the day came that she announced she was running her first marathon, no one was particularly surprised. Neither was there much more to say than an enthusiastic “All right,” when she informed the world of her plans to tackle the Chicago race in 2022.

SMALL BEGINNINGS

In our house, there is a saying that is repeated again and again: There is no substitute for doing. So, as with my sister’s marathon training, whether we are writing, running, dancing, or playing music, improvement can only come from consistently showing up – beginning small, with unsure hands or feet, and, with focus and determination, adding bit by bit. We can only hope our kids will come to absorb these lessons and come to see how those small beginnings – whether they be exhausting jogs around the block or discordant renditions through new, seemingly simple songs – can become just distant, humorous memories, serving as but some of the opening notes to their own lives’ sonatas.

n Jonathan Bilyk writes about the triumphs and travails of being a modern-day dad who legitimately enjoys time with his family, while tolerating a dog that seems to adore him. He also doesn’t really like the moniker “Superdad” because it makes it sound like he wants to wear his undergarments on the outside of his pants. (Also,the cape remains on back order.)

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