From Those We Love the Most
Part 7
It could have been an issue of talent. No one decides talent; it’s just an innate feature of human existence. Also, there is the argument that, much like picking up a language, learning an instrument is something learned in a fixed window of time. Usually, it peaks in the youth, and slips away from us with age. So one could say, philosophically or divinely, that perhaps Veronica had been more blessed than her pining counterpart. But what would account for the older person that takes time in their golden years to pick up the viola or the oboe?
Sister Hazel believed, adamantly as any non-questioning believer who had tried to take every word written in the Bible to heart, that God played a role too. Like a wizard, stepping back with His magic wand. And maybe Charlie was so good on the soccer field or baseball diamond because God had said “you know what, Charlie? Who needs music, anyway? Give it to the ladies and Sting.”
But it wasn’t just that. Charlie found it hard to drive the thoughts of the girl from his mind. For Veronica, the piano had been a simple pursuit, really. Something to keep her aesthetic self distracted, and the sense of fulfillment she found upon completing a piece was intoxicating. It wasn’t her that had fantasies of pounding another’s body across the piano halfway through a song and feeling the cries of anguish or delight that would come in response.
Sister Hazel, meanwhile, remained tabula rasa. Her heart beat in time with the music, and she secretly liked that.
It could have been an issue of talent. No one decides talent; it’s just an innate feature of human existence. Also, there is the argument that, much like picking up a language, learning an instrument is something learned in a fixed window of time. Usually, it peaks in the youth, and slips away from us with age. So one could say, philosophically or divinely, that perhaps Veronica had been more blessed than her pining counterpart. But what would account for the older person that takes time in their golden years to pick up the viola or the oboe?
Sister Hazel believed, adamantly as any non-questioning believer who had tried to take every word written in the Bible to heart, that God played a role too. Like a wizard, stepping back with His magic wand. And maybe Charlie was so good on the soccer field or baseball diamond because God had said “you know what, Charlie? Who needs music, anyway? Give it to the ladies and Sting.”
But it wasn’t just that. Charlie found it hard to drive the thoughts of the girl from his mind. For Veronica, the piano had been a simple pursuit, really. Something to keep her aesthetic self distracted, and the sense of fulfillment she found upon completing a piece was intoxicating. It wasn’t her that had fantasies of pounding another’s body across the piano halfway through a song and feeling the cries of anguish or delight that would come in response.
Sister Hazel, meanwhile, remained tabula rasa. Her heart beat in time with the music, and she secretly liked that.
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