Why I’m grateful my mom didn’t let me quit piano

Growing up, I didn’t experience a major rebellious phase. I’m sure I had my moments, but frankly, between my parents’ guidance and church involvement, I stayed out of trouble for the most part. Looking back, I’m grateful for the direction they provided. However, one memory stands out—a conversation with my mom when I was 12.

Both my parents taught piano, with my mom dedicating herself primarily to this craft throughout her career. From teaching toddlers to senior citizens, she covered a vast spectrum, even teaching programs like Kindermusik for children as young as 16 months old.

Being the child of music educators meant I was automatically enrolled in piano lessons from the age of 3. I spent plenty of time practicing scales, reading sheet music, and performing at recitals. Yet, as I approached adolescence, I decided it was time to quit piano and focus on my passion for baseball.

When I informed my mom of this decision, it wasn’t a question but a firm statement. However, she refused to entertain the idea. She heard plenty of stories over the years of adults saying, "I wish my mom would not have let me quit." She was right, the blame always went to the mom. Dad somehow got off the hook on this one.

She emphasized the importance of discipline and perseverance inherent in mastering the piano—a lesson that transcended mere musical skill.

Years later, I can appreciate her wisdom. Learning piano wasn’t just about acquiring a talent; it was about cultivating resilience and commitment. Mom’s resolute "no" marked a turning point.

Despite my initial resistance, I continued my musical journey. As my parents expanded their teaching to include play-by-ear classes, I absorbed invaluable insights and techniques, finding joy in playing by ear—a skill that brings me immense pleasure today, whether in a church setting or at home.

One poignant memory that underscores the power of music involves a family friend battling Alzheimer’s. Despite her claims of inability, placing her hands on the keys and opening a hymnal would spark a mesmerizing performance—an illustration of music’s profound impact.

Another memory, when visiting my great-aunt in Charleston, Missouri, I would often play piano for her. Her health was declining, but she would often say, "They’ll never be able to take this away from you."

My parents have taught me plenty of other things in life, and they’ve gone to great lengths to give me opportunities — including through baseball. But the value of perseverance instilled in me through piano has stuck with me. It’s also helped me in other areas of life.

Immediate gratification often pales in comparison to the rewards of steadfast dedication. Parents have to be parents, not simply a friend. And even things you enjoy will not always be sunshine and rainbows. Things worth doing require hard work. It sounds so simple, but somehow in today’s world, many have lost this message.

Thanks, Mom, for not letting me quit.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Lucas Presson is the assistant publisher and general manager of the Southeast Missourian.