Whenever I am playing this song, I feel like I am drifting back to the days when I would shut myself in my bedroom, pull a pair of headphones over my ears, and sit at my digital piano for hours at a time practicing songs, one after another, from beginning to end and if I screwed up a note, I would go back to the beginning and I would do it until I could play the song perfectly.
Those days were a decade ago when I was 15. It was my way of escaping reality, to temporarily transport myself to a world where my mom and step-dad didn’t fight at the drop of a hat, where my step-dad and his parents got along, where my step-dad wasn’t an overly emotional alcoholic and smoker, and where I had a loving family who laughed and did things together.
Those things never came true. It remained in my fantasy. My mom and I moved away and left my step-dad to smoke and drink into deep depression. Five years after we moved away, his liver failed.
These days, whenever I play this song, I often think of him. I think of the good times and only the good times we had like playing Frisbee at the park and doing a guitar-piano duet of Silent Night that Christmas eve. I think of the times when we went piano shopping and the day I spent on the back of his motorcycle as we rode to Travis Lake. Playing this song makes me miss him.
Still, I play it anyway because it is the first song I learned on the piano, because it is a reminder of those days, and because it keeps the memories of my step-dad alive. Canon in D is a song full of memories.
Image Credit – Google