This is The Piano. It’s been in our home for over 20 years now and yesterday it gave me a very bitter sweet surprise.
When I first met The Piano it was in the home of family friends, the McKenzies, who lived on Niakwa Road. Our families would visit back and forth over the years and my memories of The Piano was that it was used by many people who played it during parties. Usually, there were several people gathered round and singing various songs lead by the pianist.
As time went on the McKenzies moved to Toronto and my parents bought their house on Niakwa Road and The Piano came with the house. My mom played and I tried to learn how off and on with very little commitment and a corresponding amount of success.
More time passes and as my parents downsized out of their home, The Piano had to find a new home, and it came to stay with us. I’d always hoped to learn to play. At one point Shirley gave me in-home piano lessons and I made a bit of progress. However, I was a less than diligent student and my lack of commitment to practicing meant that I still can’t play the piano. But, I have very fond memories of all the times my mom played The Piano over the years.
Yesterday, I’m laying on the floor near The Piano doing some stretching. I’ve been on the floor in this area many times but this time I see a yellow post-it note up under The Piano, something I’d never noticed before.
That’s my mom’s handwriting. She passed away over 22 years ago but in an instant it was like she was there with me. Seeing her handwriting confirming the generous gift of The Piano was very overwhelming and emotional. Thanks mom, I miss you.
