Listening to my brother plunk away at the piano keys makes me realize what my mother went through when my sister and I were learning to play about twelve years ago. Listening to us plunk away hitting wrong key after wrong key, playing the same song over and over again, all while complaining that we would rather be doing literally anything else, couldn’t have been easy.

No one in my family wanted to learn an instrument, and while it’s too early to tell if my brother has any musical talent, my sister and I certainly didn’t. I never understood why my mother would continue to put us through lessons.

It used to be said that learning to play a musical instrument could help increase your IQ. This has since been proven false. However, there are some significant benefits for your brain, as the process of learning to play a musical instrument creates neural connections that can last long past childhood. These connections can help make up for the declines your mind experiences late in life. (If that’s something you’re worried about you can pick up an instrument later in life and experience the same benefits).

My mom has referenced the cognitive benefits of learning an instrument when I pressed her asking her yet again why I was still taking piano lessons. While I’m certainly grateful for that added benefit, that’s not why I’m thanking my mom for making me learn to play an instrument.

When I watch my brother play, I see him struggle through songs. I see him at the beginning of the week when he can’t play the music he has been assigned at all. He goes through line by line, missing most notes. Usually he’s a little bit frustrated. But by the end of the week, he can play each piece, not perfectly, but he can play it.

For my brother, most things seem to come naturally to him. At the age of seven, he’s already a promising athlete, he does well in school, and he’s outgoing and personable. When my parents taught him to ride a bike, they walked into the house for a moment, and walked outside to find him already riding around the yard without them having helped at all.

I’m glad he is such a talented, well-rounded, kid, but I’m happy to watch him work at something that doesn’t come naturally to him. I’ve written previously about the battle with procrastination and motivation that “gifted” kids face when they get older. When you think of talent as something innate instead of something that you have to work at, it makes you want to give up on the things you have to struggle through.

I will never be a musician, and perhaps my brother won’t be either, but I’ve gained a valuable life skill through taking piano lessons. There’s something about learning to play a song, about starting with a klunky sight read and ending being able to play the piece all the way through, that gives you a sense of accomplishment. You feel a sense of pride in the work you put in to make something sound effortless and beautiful.

That is why I’m thankful for the piano lessons my mom dragged me to growing up. Yes, the mental benefits, and the skill itself are invaluable things I’ll have for the rest of my life. But those benefits pale in comparison to the confidence I gained and the confidence my brother will gain, building up a skill that didn’t come naturally to me.