
About Me
I’m a retired teacher, lifelong pianist, and author of The Lost Song—a story born of music, fun and high adventure.
“Some songs aren’t written—they’re remembered.”
I’m Tracy Middleton—teacher, pianist, author of The Lost Song, and a believer in the quiet power of music to reach places words cannot.
For most of my life, the piano has been the steady melody beneath everything I’ve done. I spent years teaching—guiding students through scales, songs, and the small victories that slowly become confidence. My classroom was never just about music. It was about helping kids find their voice, their rhythm, and their place in the world.
But some of the most important lessons I learned didn’t happen in a classroom. They happened in hospital lobbies.
During a time when my parents were in and out of the hospital, life felt uncertain—like a piece of music that had lost its structure. One day, I sat down at a hospital piano in the lobby and began to play. Not for an audience. Not for performance. Just to steady myself.
Something unexpected happened.
People stopped. Listened. Some smiled. Some just closed their eyes for a moment.
In those moments, I realized music wasn’t just something I taught—it was something that could heal, connect, and reach people in ways I hadn’t fully understood. What began as a personal refuge became a quiet offering to others.
That experience changed me. It reshaped the way I see music, teaching, and purpose.
The Lost Song grew from that space—part memory, part story, part truth. It’s about what we lose, what we carry, and how music can lead us back to ourselves.
This site is more than a place to read about the book. It’s a gathering space. Inside, you’ll find stories, music, reflections, and a membership community built around connection, creativity, and shared experience.
You’ll also find pieces of my journey—old photos from my early days at the piano, moments from my time in the Navy, years of teaching, and the joy of passing music on to the next generation, including my nieces and nephews sitting beside me at the keys.
If you’re here, you’re part of it too. Thank you for being here—and for listening.











































