I don't know how many last piano lessons I've had, I think it's about 3 if not 4.
When I left my first piano teacher (actually, it was my teacher who left me because she was moving out of the country with her husband) I cried my eyes out for more than a day. She was the one who taught me the basics, who introduced the exciting world of classical music. She was my inspiration, and musical idol. She was also like a sister, not only because she was quite young but her way of teaching and connecting with you was on a different level than my other piano teachers. My mother comforted me as I was crying the day before our last lesson, all her comfort was to waste since nothing helped me realize and accept what was happening.
I went for another teacher but quit quite hastily. She wasn't bad, she just wasn't the same teacher as the one I missed. With that came the gap year(s) when I refused to play. But after a while I noticed that I missed playing the piano, so my mother found me another teacher. A horrific one! After two years, I decided to leave her for another. Leaving that piano teacher was easy, it was a relief since she was quite a witch...
And just as I found and thought it easier to leave piano teachers behind me, yesterday wasn't all too easy. The teacher I've had for now three years, who forced me to learn many new techniques from scratch and who repaired me from my previous witch for a teacher, was hard to leave. I didn't expect that I would feel as sad as I did, but I did and it wasn't easy at all.
I'm quite emotional in that sense. I hate leaving people, I hate seeing people leave (the whole goodbye-process) - I'm like a herding dog who likes to keep her flock of sheep together.
I suppose piano teachers (to me) are like second mothers (or if it's a male, fathers). They're like the ones who bring you in ("give birth", if you'd like it in a more metaphorical way) to the musical world. They raise you with their techniques, they feed you with their knowledge, they participate at each stage you enter and each choice you make with their support, they guide you towards the right directions with their experiences, they care for you emotionally in other aspects than your piano playing because of the bond that subconsciously has been formed (probably from all the heart-to-heart talks), they treat you as their own - they're like the wind beneath your wings. A second parent.
(Sorry! Last line got cheesy, made me start hearing Bette Middler singing Wind Beneath My Wings in my head.)
All I wanted to say was; I'll be missing her and my piano lessons in her studio from time to time...
