The Sound of Practicing

My husband is an orchestra musician. Fortunately he plays the cello and not the trumpet or piccolo or percussion. When we first married, he would apologize for practicing. I didn't mind; it was nice most of the time. I make exception for very few pieces of music such as his third of the Schoenberg String Trio, which sounded horrible.  Many times, especially if he is practicing chamber music, I become familiar with the music and it becomes a friend, something always nearby. Then after the performance, that music stops and I miss it. But there is always something new.

We will celebrate our twentieth anniversary this month, a very large blessing. The sound of practicing has become such an integral part of life that I associate it with well-being and security. I hear the notes of the cello and all is right with the world.