The Piano

In 1977 with my first marriage ending and because I was moving from a house into an apartment, I had to get rid of my piano.  Quite honestly, I don’t really remember much about that piano now.  I know it was an upright and would certainly be an antique by now if it wasn’t already one then.  However, I remember vividly the scene as it was wheeled out of my house and down the street to a neighbor’s house.  That event made me sad but, then, there was a general sadness at that time that pervaded my life making nuances of sadness imperceptible.

Over the following years, I longed for another piano but, with a young family, there never seemed to be enough money for that “luxury”.  From time to time, I would price pianos to see how far out of reach one remained.  When there was still a piano store in the mall (you know, right there on the main corridor), I would wander in and run my fingers over the keys raising the hopes of the salesman which wasn’t too cool on my part.  But I couldn’t help the longing.  Then, when I got laid off in 1995 in a corporate downsizing, I took a portion of the money and insisted on buying an electronic keyboard. 

I was naïve to believe that an electronic keyboard with its circuit boards, shorter keyboard, smaller keys, and whatever else it had could effectively imitate the organic feel of wood and felt as those strings were physically struck and silenced, the sound vibrating through the instrument, through my body and out into the air around me.  While  the electronic keyboard with all the bells and whistles was a lot of fun, it didn’t satisfy the yearning for a piano.

But, you know, time has a way of slipping by and we forget those things that once were so important in our lives as we learn to live without them.  We don’t allow ourselves to linger on what can’t be.  Then, about a month ago, I’m sitting with Armando and from nowhere I say, “I sure wish I had a piano.”  I can’t tell you what prompted that comment.  I don’t remember what we were doing at the time but I had a sudden longing for a piano in my life.

A couple of weeks later, I got a call from an old friend.  Her former mother-in-law had passed leaving a piano that no one in the family wanted and the family had contacted her to see if she knew anyone who would be interested in having a piano.  Having remembered over the years that I had wished I could have another piano, she called to see if we could line up some piano wranglers and get the piano from where it was to where I was.  From that moment until the piano was safely installed in my house a few days later, I lived with an active undercurrent of energy that I couldn’t turn off.  The first thought upon waking and the last thought before sleeping and most of the thoughts in-between were about THE PIANO.

I was out of town on the day the piano had to be moved which is probably a good thing.  My perverted visions of it careening from the back of the pickup truck and splintering on I-45 while I watched helplessly from another vehicle in the piano delivery caravan would have probably triggered some sort of infarction or such.  So, I was a couple of hundred miles away while some wonderful men in my life saw to it that my new gift was carefully brought to me.

Until I saw the piano in my home and sat down at it for the first time, I couldn’t really believe it was true.  Then, over the first few days it was a part of our household, I would be surprised by its presence and in awe of its being there.  It wasn’t just a piece of furniture.  It was a being, an entity, a force, an energy.  I would run my hand over its smooth cabinet and virtually caress the keys.  I’d like to report that playing again was like picking up where I left off in my teens after many, many years of formal study.  But I’ve grown rusty and stiff.  I can see that I’m going to have to loosen up and relax into it.  Fortunately, the theory side of the process came back almost completely (thanks to Mrs. Barfield who insisted on teaching theory to a reluctant student who just wanted to make music).  I just need to loosen up the old digits and shoulders.  I’m getting better every day and I don’t need anyone to remind me to practice like I did as a teenager.

So, I say all this to encourage each who reads this to stay the course with whatever it is you’re praying for or manifesting or wishing for.  I’m living proof that never giving up means ultimate reward!