We moved to California in 1966 when I was in the 8th grade. My dad told me that in my new school, they would give me an instrument and teach me how to play it. He suggested that I not pass up this opportunity.
The music teacher took me into a room with several huge string basses lined up along the wall and said; “I only have you for one year. You know how to read music so I can teach you enough for you to be able to play bass in a high school orchestra.” He did, I did and I later met my husband while playing bass.
In the mid-1980’s I returned to the instrument and played with orchestras and other venues until 2002 when I took a leave due to work.
When Dr. K. told me that I would never work again, I thought that I could return to performing. I began to look forward to playing with the symphony again until I tried to lift the instrument.
One of the issues of my disease is that I lose oxygen saturation under various conditions, one of which is lifting or carrying heavy objects. The string bass is a very heavy object. Then I thought about standing up for the three-hour rehearsals, concerts every 4-6 weeks and massive rehearsals during concert weeks. I just don’t have the concentration and stamina anymore.
It occurred to me that I might never play my wonderful bass again. A few months ago, I asked my son if he wanted to take the bass home with him. He also plays. He looked at me and said, “No, not yet.” Maybe he knows that I am not 100% convinced that I won’t play again.
Next: September Song
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