Growing up, my home, was filled with classical music; records and radio. We listened to everything except barque music, which I found out much later, my father disliked. Looking back I can understand him not buying records of Bach if he didn’t like them but how did I not know about the Bach boys until I was an adult? Dad must have turned the radio off every single time their music was played.
Hearing Bach for the first time was like waking up one morning and seeing red, magenta, pink, and orange for the first time.
I have a friend who told me she needed music every day, exactly like she needed food. Much later in our friendship she admitted that she’d been angry with me for years because I bought a grand piano and couldn’t even play! Later I told her I had difficulty learning, music was important to me too, and I knew unless I made a big commitment I would never learn to play.
She thought about this for a good long while and decided her small spinet wasn’t a big enough commitment in her life! So, she moved her dinning table and chairs out of the dining room the filled the room, wall to wall, with a grand piano.
John and I were in her area once and stopped by hoping she was home.We were greeted, shown in, scurried through the living room, and instead of my friend saying, “Please sit down.” she said, “Lay down!”
“What?” I asked. She pointed under the piano where pillows were waiting! We crawled under, somewhat dubious, but settled in on the pillows and she began to play for us. She’d taped a set of beautiful pictures under her piano and I requested Bach.  nancymauerman.com