My Piano

My Piano

In addition to my continued work preparing inventory for the holidays, and sending off a prayer journal, last week was Piano Week.  It's hard to find the right words for this experience.  The piano came from my childhood home, one of the last things to be moved.  It doesn't matter how old or how prepared one might be; the truth is that it hurts to lose parents.  Yes, it softens the harsh edges of grief to know that we will be reunited in heaven, but being an orphan - even an old orphan - isn't easy.  I just miss my mom and dad.  Aren't I blessed to have parents I miss so much?

The studio has been ready for the piano for some time.  I'll move piano lessons from our home to the studio now that the piano is in place.  My husband won't have to find an alternate place to land after work on Tuesday evenings any more.  It is all a wonderful plan and I'm excited about it.  But watching this little Gulbransen spinet be moved into its space in my studio - well, it was just hard.  It belonged along the wall under the stairs at home.  That's where I put in endless hours of practicing, emoting and venting, learning, perfecting, playing for fun and for work...  it has been in that space since 1964.  Fifty years.  That's a very long time.

So, welcome to your new home, little piano.  Thank you to my husband, my brother and my brother-in-law for gently moving and muscling the piano into its new space.  Not a grumble was heard.  And now it sits happily against a south-facing wall, with a cheery new bright green philodendron there welcome it to its new home.  The very first piano lessons in the studio will be on November 11.  That will also be the very first time the studio has been used for a public purpose. There are a lot of very firsts coming up.  Gulp.  I'll let you know how it goes.