Voices of Angels
Every week when we’d visit my grandparents, my oma would ask if I brought my piano books so I could play for her. If I’m honest, it annoyed me a bit because I really just wanted to watch TV. But we were close and I loved her dearly, so I played. She was on dialysis, and it wasn’t going well. The sicker she got, the softer she spoke, and with her thick German accent it became so hard to communicate! I felt so frustrated because she’d try to talk to me and I could barely understand her. But when I played music, we were on the same page. We understood. I started playing for her every chance I could. Sometimes she’d start sobbing in the middle of a song, startling me. I remember specifically she would cry when I played “Traumerei” by Schumann. “Traumerei” means “dreaming” in German. She’d say, “It’s so beautiful.” It still chokes me up. I saw music differently. It connected us. Oma was dying, and she wanted me to play. That was what she wanted from me in that last bit of time she had on ea...