This Old Flute

When I was growing up my family wasn't rich, but we weren't poor either. Always having enough money to cover the essentials like, mortgage, food, clothing, medical. But there was never much left for the extras that my kids have today: camp, music, dance, karate. Growing up, I had always wanted to play the flute but didn't get the opportunity until my junior year in high school. Where I could take lessons in school for free. So I did. With a rent to own Armstrong student flute, that in the end cost $125, I started.

It was me and Mr. Bruns, or me and a student music teacher, who played the oboe, one period every six days in a small practice room. I never felt I was good enough to play in the band. After all those kids had been playing for years. So I stuck to my music, practicing just for myself.

Years later, in college, a friend needed a flute for some church work she was doing, and I lent her mine. I was too busy with biology and chemistry, and I knew she would take good care of it. Then years later again my niece was taking up the flute and instead of buying one she used mine. Until she "out grew" my student flute, graduating to a really nice one, she played it.

Since then it has stayed in its case on the shelf, until days like yesterday. Yesterday, my middle one asked if she could play some songs on her recorder for me.

"Sure," I replied.

But the next thing I knew, we had out her older sister's old recorder and she was teaching me a duet. It's the first time I've ever played music with somebody else. It's wonderful. And the next thing after that, the flute was out. And magically my fingers have never forgotten the familar dance upon the keys. My lower lip laid on the mouth piece like an old dog rests his head on its owner's leg. And sweet tones filled the house.

"Can you teach me?" erupted from both little ones, whose hands are not quite big enough to span the keys.

"Sure," I said, remembering way back when, my first days. "First you have to get a tone out of the mouth piece." I showed them how to lay the mouth piece under their lip and to blow like your blowing in a bottle. To my shock the littlest one got it right off. (Too bad her hands are too small to span the keys.... maybe the piccolo?) The middle one struggled a bit, but got it, too.

We reattached the rest the flute, showed her the fingerings for G, A, and B. It's a stretch, but she's off. Playing the same song she just taught me on the recorder.

Next year, she'll have the opportunity to take a real instrument in school. For a while now, she's been saying that she wants to take clarinet, like her sister and the manly motorcycle man. But last night, she asked, "Can I take flute?"

"Sure, why not... and you can use this old flute." This well used, magical, always there, like an old friend - flute.