My grandmother's gift
Taking piano lessons was something that was decided for me, although I'm sure I had showed some interest at first. I was around 7 years old when my parents enrolled me for a class. As we moved around after they separated, the lessons continued with a couple different teachers depending on where we lived. When we immigrated to the United States in 1988, it was hard to find a teacher we trusted or with rates we could afford. So Lola (Tagalog for grandmother) took on that role while she lived with us and was easily the most persistent of my instructors and the toughest one I have ever had. Lola spent a lot of time on the piano bench as my drill sargent. While living with them in Manila, she required I practice everyday for at least an hour. It was the condition before I got to play outside and the threat if I refused to take a nap. I used to dread it. She was not very grandmother-ly sitting next to me, requiring even the finger exercises were just right. To this day, when I get to s