My dad loves to play his music. He loves to play piano most of the time. He is a music lover. He's favorite musical instrument is guitar. I love to listen when he plays the guitar, it rocks me to sleep. He began playing guitar right when he was still in elementary. When he was in high school he had a group of music lovers best friends. He also joined choirs during his school years until college.
He'd love his children to have the same passion in music as he does. Unfortunately none of us lived to be his legacy. As I can remember, dad wanted my sister to learn the piano when she was in still in high school, but my sister was not interested in it. While I was "gapanal-ot gd" so I can play too. Then my dad noticed that I learn fast, so he taught me my first solo piano "Minute".
After that music I was eager to learn more, but the learning wasn’t easy. My dad was a little high note, I mean (most people call it “high blood”) he gets angry easily when I make a mistake. But I, persistent as ever though a lot of tears fell in my eyes before I get to perfect a piece, learned at least 6 songs after a year of training. Time passed I forgot to practice. I wasn’t eager to learn anymore maybe because of the process of my learning is a little tap in the hand or worse hurtful words.
But I admit I still wouldn’t miss it in the world just to listen to my dad playing his music. And as I grow older I began to realize that it doesn’t matter how you learn music, it’s who teaches you, the moment that person spends with you just for you to learn, his willingness to pass on to you his passion and the Music you would be playing in the end.
