Secrets. 

Every parent has at least one secret moment of “I should have” or “Bugger it all, why didn’t I?”. Many parents could drown in a sea of regrets if they aren’t careful. 

I know I could. But when it comes to music, I don’t have just moments. 

My kid’s a cellist. So, I also have a song. 

Secrets by One Republic. 

Let me explain.  

When my son was three, I took him to see The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. It was a fun urban fantasy homage  to the original Disney short from Fantasia (which he dearly loved) full of magic, so it was no surprise that  he enjoyed it. We both did. 

A few months later, we were in an elevator when he started imitating lightning shooting out of his  fingers, babbling incessantly about being a sorcerer’s apprentice. I thought it was cute but dismissed it.  Like I said, he really enjoyed the movie. 

It wasn’t until many months later when we bought the DVD and he watched it, in the way that only  small children can (over and over again relentlessly), that I remembered the elevator scene.  

He hadn’t just randomly chosen that moment to pretend. He heard the song Secrets, a featured song  from the movie, playing in the elevator. It inspired his rhythms, his impromptu choreography, while he  sang. 

I realize this sounds unimpressive.  

But Secrets wasn’t released in the US until four months after The Sorcerer’s Apprentice premiered. So, at  three (struggling to work on his ABCs), he had replicated every beat of a song months after hearing it.  Months after I had forgotten its very existence, as he clamored around the elevator smiting invisible  foes.  

Intrigued, I started remembering other times where he heard bits of music and said, “This is (insert  random tv/movie scene)”. I began googling them. I spent all night doing it.  

No seriously. I’m an insomniac. It was all night. 

In every instance that I could recollect, he had been right. He clearly had deep love and  memory/aptitude for music. 

I also clearly remember thinking, “Wow, that’s pretty cool”. 

If this was a movie, I would have promptly taken him to a music store. An inspiring musical montage  would start playing (perhaps fittingly to Secrets) to scenes of him selecting an instrument. practicing  with various tutors. experiencing small victories and moments for growth. I would have been 

instrumental (see what I did there?) in leading him down a path of musical glory, always believing in  him. 

But this is not a movie, and I did nothing to encourage him. 

I suck. 

The truth is, my kid took it upon himself to approach the music director at his school when he was ten and expressed to him an interest in learning cello. While he was encouraged to join orchestra in 6th grade, my son apparently found these terms to be unacceptable. 

I don’t actually know the specifics of the conversation. I just know that he insisted on learning sooner, and that his (future) teacher relented.  

I know this because, a book and loaner cello were sent home, and recesses were sacrificed so that he  could attend the older kid’s classes. 

His first steps on his musical path did not happen because of me, they began firmly of his own volition. That was a little over three and half years ago. 

Fast forward to any number of string camps or competitions where I am talking to other parents about  our respective kids. To those moments when I was first inducted into this weird society of classical kids  and the people that drive them places and pay for their classical stuff. If you could have seen me in the  beginning, you would have seen a woman completely out of her league. 

I remember the strange mix of envy and awe, as I listened to their carefully cultivated plans for a future,  their extensive practice schedules and their current repertoire plans for their children.  

I remember the unhealthy dose of being overwhelmed. 

But mostly I remember the guilt I felt… and still do. 

Logistically speaking, my kid is at a distinct disadvantage when playing with his music intensive peers.  The truth is. they often have six or more years of technical training. Those years can really make a  difference. They just do. 

So now my brain has its own PowerPoint of failures, all of them titled “Oh No!”. 

• I should have gotten him a private tutor as soon as he expressed an interest in an instrument.  • On that note, I should have actually purchased/rented him an instrument right away. • I should have learned an instrument myself. 
• I should have made him wake up earlier every day to practice. 
• I should have had him on a strict repertoire program. 
• I should have taken him to every live classical performance possible. 
• I should have had him listening to Classical music every day, not just the bits he was getting from  watching Little Einsteins. 
• I should be able to name a major piece from every Classical composer (instead of having wasted  my time curating an obscure music list.) 
• I should have enrolled him into more classes.
• I should have been taking detailed notes during every private cello lesson. 
• I should have been researching musical colleges and programs as soon as he showed a talent for  them. 

That list is but the tip of the musical iceberg,  

I am terrified of the things I don’t do. The things I don’t know that might screw up my kid’s musical  future. 

My rational brain realizes that it’s not really reasonable to spin out over the things I didn’t do. And while  a lot of them are great ideas (and I am partially implementing a few of them now), perhaps if I had  started them when he was three (like many do), maybe he would have burned out in interest or grown  to resent me/the cello/everything musical if I had. 

Honestly, he still might. 

I don’t know. 

I can’t learn for him, practice for him or plan his future for him.  

I can help him plan. 

I can encourage and support him. 

But once he leaves the proverbial nest, it will be HIS future. And that is something I see a lot of parents  struggling with. I think it’s a trap that is all too easy to fall into. A struggle that is true for anything a  beloved child pursues, and a parent supports. 

I don’t know how far his music will take him; all I can do is my best in trying to help him navigate the  weird, wonderful world that we live in. 

I hope he grows up to be happy and healthy.  

I hope he can afford medical care for the times when he’s not. 

Stop worrying about being a perfect parent. They don’t exist. You need to give yourself a break. 

Don’t beat yourself up over the things you didn’t do. Just acknowledge them and try to move on.  Because if you don’t, if you can’t stop reliving your past mistakes… 

You might miss out on what’s happening in the now. 

The now for Matrick is a focus on classical study with a broader pursuit of pop music. He can even play  Secrets on his cello and it’s beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the way his face lights up when he gets lost  in the music. 

And that’s the really important thing.  

Don’t get lost in your mistakes. 

If you’re lucky enough to have a musician in the family… 

Get lost in the music.