When I was on my third date with my husband about eleven years ago, after a friendly dinner out, he played piano for me for the first time in a small chapel room within an old Presbyterian church where he was employed as a youth pastor. He mesmerized me with pieces like Clair de lune by Debussy and could take requests on the spot. If you don’t know Clair de lune, you can click on the link now and imagine yourself in my place sitting in this chapel pictured above delighting in the mystery of uncovering an other’s soul. You can just feel the romance and the chills I had running up my arms listening to him play effortlessly without any sheet music.
After he was done playing, we sat and talked for awhile in the front row of chairs. It was then that he told me I was beautiful. To this day he says he remembers that moment because of the look on my face. I was shocked. I had just been captivated by his musical talent and couldn’t fathom receiving that kind of compliment at the same time, so much so, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I turned away. He was sweeping me off my feet, and I was unwilling to be swept away.
Overtime, I was willing to trust him more and more, and it became easier to be swept away by his romantic endeavors to win my heart. The one gift that surpasses them all was the song he composed for me when he proposed marriage. Did I forget to mention he also composes music? He composed a song for me and named it after me.
When I was a little girl in elementary school, it was common for other girls to have their names pre-printed on articles of clothing, jewelry, or other little trinkets girls like, but there was never anything with my name on it. Instead of feeling good about being unique, I yearned to be common so I would feel included and not be teased. I wanted brown hair instead of red hair, tan skin instead of pale, freckled skin, and a sensible name like Jennifer or Shannon, which were very popular names at the time. The fact that there was nothing pre-printed with my name on it confirmed, in my mind, that I was uncommon in a bad way. I hated the beginning of each new school year or semester when the teachers would take a roll call. I would cross my fingers that the teachers would call my name only once and that they would pronounce it correctly the first time but so many times they didn’t. I would have to correct them in front of the class, sometimes multiple times, causing my face to turn as red as my hair.
When my boyfriend (now husband) told me he had composed a piano piece named after me, I think my face turned red for the first time in a positive way. I couldn’t wait to hear it. People often ask the question, “What actor would you want to play ‘you’ in a lifetime movie about yourself?” Have you ever thought about that? From the first note to the last, when I heard this song, I felt the way I longed to feel ever since I could remember. I felt fully accepted, fully loved, and fully special. This song perfectly reflects and portrays what I feel about myself, at times quiet and gentle and other times loud and strong. Whenever I listen to it, it reminds me of how much he and I were meant to be together. No one else could accurately capture my heart, mind, and soul like my husband.
I wanted to share the song here along with a video for the sake of something to watch while listening, but I can’t help but find myself closing my eyes at times to take in the passion and strength from which my husband plays.