My son used to play piano

When my son was 4 years old, we went to the KitKat Chocolatory in Tokyo, it was a small candy shop where you can purchase KitKats in a variety of flavors outside the typical chocolate sold in America. He chose 3 flavors: lemon-salt, ice cream and sweet potato. After we shared the lemon-salt he opened the ice cream flavor and threw a tantrum when I told him he would have to wait until later to try it. The only thing that stopped him from a total meltdown was being promised a turn at the KitKat piano that was currently on display in the Chocolatory. 

My son ran to the seat, plopped down and began slapping the keys as you’d imagine any 4-year-old playing a piano in a candy store would. I’m sure it was just “mom ears” however, I swear I could hear a tune. He appeared genuinely happy, creating sounds from a giant wooden box, painted to look like candy, drawing a small crowd—even if they were just other customers waiting for their turn on the piano. His smile was so big, he loved every minute of playing.

While waiting for our bus home I asked him if he wanted to start piano lessons, he shouted “yes” so loud all the elderly couples waiting ahead of us in line jumped.

As soon as my son turned 5, we started piano lessons. For context, we live in Japan and no teacher in our area would teach a 4-year-old. The first lesson went swimmingly. He learned a song called the Donut Song where he just repeatedly pressed the D note in a somewhat rhythmic melody. He played this same Donut Song every night at home until he learned another song that also focused on the D note the following week. Every 2-3 weeks he would learn a new note and eventually he became familiar with all 7 solfege syllables. 

After a few months, he was able to play a variety of songs on his own, both from reading the music notes and from memorization. He only practiced 10 minutes a night, but it was the highlight of our evening. We were all compelled to put down our devices, turn off the TV and watch this tiny boy create beautiful sounds. He would grin triumphantly while the whole family cheered him on. 

After a year and a half of consistent weekly lessons and evening practice, he started losing interest. When his father or I brought up how we wanted to hear him play new songs, he yelled and cried about how much he hated the piano. Regular lessons with his teacher became a nightmare. If he was excited to attend class before, now he would walk inside the class fully intending to be uncooperative. His teacher hesitated to teach him new songs and the lessons became shorter and shorter as he could no longer sit for 30 minutes straight. 

What did we do?

We let him quit. I know this is a sad ending and from where I stand, it’s heartbreaking. It was the first time I saw my little bug fully devote himself to something just to turn his back completely on it. He was so good and getting better every day. 

His piano teacher told us she will be there to teach him, if he is ever ready to return. And in case he ever changes his mind, we keep his piano out on display along with his books. 

I know this is just the start of a string of hobbies he will want to try and give up for one reason or another. He will always have our support in trying new things until he finds the perfect fit.