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Month: September 2023

Piano Love

Published on September 26, 2023 
It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!

My husband just returned from a sentimental solo trip to Georgia, to inspect and play his mother’s piano, newly-refurbished. 

The piano was purchased in 1913, in Rome, Georgia, at McBrayer Furniture, when Tony’s mother (we call her “Mimi”) was an infant. Mimi was given piano lessons as a young child, and ended up being the only one in her family who continued to play. She absolutely loved to play the piano, and it brought lifelong joy. 

Mimi acquired this family piano after her parents died. Several of her children learned to play piano, too. Tony never had formal lessons, but learned by ear, and he has always enjoyed this pastime. He has many fond memories of the family piano, especially listening to his mother sing as she practiced playing hymns. Tony’s father was a minister, and Mimi supported his ministry by playing the piano at church services.

It’s a very ‘old’ piano – but its value is mostly sentimental. Here’s a piano story that is a family legend: during the 1960s, Mimi noticed that a couple keys were sticking and a few others were missing their ivory key tops. She decided to have the piano repaired, and was heartsick when the repair shop removed all the original ivory key tops from the piano and replaced them with plastic. Mimi never trusted having the piano serviced again. 

After Tony’s parents died and their home was sold (circa 1995), the piano was moved into the recesses of a loved one’s basement – “for the short term.” Well, there it sat, lost and forgotten, for many, many years. A few years ago, this relative’s house was sold – and the question of what to do with the old piano jumped back into the forefront of our minds. 

There are certain objects that hold a family’s love; this piano is one. 

Tony and his niece decided to have the piano refurbished, a process that took two years. Tony was so excited to sit and play it, once again. He says it sounds wonderful. Tony definitely shed a few tears as he played the piano, thinking about his mother, his father, and his childhood. 

The piano will live in Georgia, at our niece’s home.

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September’s Gift

Published on September 12, 2023 
It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!
almost imperceptibly
summer loosens its hold

wispy monstrous spider webs 
block the path through the woods
note the light through the trees
bright moss upon a stump’s decay
soft purpling of grasses 
feel the lightness of the breeze
reflections shimmer on the pond
brown and rust and waning green
so autumn begins
softly
slightly
surprising me
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Unsettled

Published on September 5, 2023 
It is Tuesday and time to write a 'Slice of Life." 
Thank you  Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community
of teacher-writers!
Expect the Unexpected

My friend shared how 
a week after her parent’s burial
they left the door unlocked and
this stranger
walked into their home
without knocking
an elderly woman
dressed in fleece despite the heat advisory
she walked in circles in their living room
passionately sharing a rambling story
a best friend 
a locked car
a game of hide and seek

My friend recognized her
as a neighbor from several blocks away
and they walked the confused soul 
back to her own home

I thought to myself - of course this happened, 
of course, of course, of course
It is the first days 
surrounding the death of a loved one
‘the season’ 

When my own father died 
three years ago
I experienced a heightened awareness of life
noticing a preponderance of 
unexpected sights and situations
The world opened in new ways
everything askew
fractures, all around 
mystery, awe, surprise, confusion, wonder

It’s as if you are living within
wild, unsettled lyrics of a Bob Dylan song
replete with unforeseen doorways, 
mirrors, silver canes, false eyelashes
you’re starin’ at butterflies
(the italicized are fragments of
Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts)

these are first days of a ‘newdeath’
a transcendent time
a way of being, much like first days of a ‘newborn’

this tender while 
when the world becomes very different

the thin veil of curtain 
of the great unknown
is pulled aside 

yes, you feel

beginning with 
the hush when you enter the home
the whispered voices and loving caresses
dear ones gathering 
bringing food and flowers
moving softly, with great care

tears flow as you live
this raw edgy beauty

witnessing great loss 

       you pause and sob at wet mangled treasures from a stray cat
a death shrine amongst the flowers 
and then again
at a young child’s scraped knee 
needing
to wipe away pain

       you see the hummingbird float across the yard 
sense its sweet tremor

       you feel familiar foreboding 
throughout your body
when a friend tells how her loved one
broken and disoriented by dementia
undressed in front of a grandchild

	you urgently call for help
when you turn the corner downtown
and find the stranger 
slumped over
passed out
knowing
we are all connected

       you follow the wisps of clouds across the blue moon
believing in more

       you lay in bed and hear again
each stroke of the fumbling shovel
knowing love pours from dirt not held

       and when you sit alone
you cradle a cup of hot tea 
and listen 

how soft the ordinary 
how all is fragile
how every moment in time
tingles

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