The pictures on the piano are of me and Alan when we were little tykes. I am seated at a piano (my first piano recital) and Alan is just standing by the piano in his mom and dad's house back in 1946.
My mom's piano, that is.
This is the piano that sat in the very small living room in Runnemede at 116 2nd Ave. It is the piano upon which I learned to play. It's the piano from which my mistakes urged my father to remark: "Play it right, Judith!"
The piano was given to my mother (by my father) when they got married on March 21, 1936. My mom was such a good piano player. She never told me where she learned to play, but I suspect it was at the boarding school she and her sister Anne attended. The name of the school escapes me, but it was a school in Western Massachusetts and it was specifically for fatherless girls.
My mom played the piano (or organ) at our church for as long as I can remember, until she no longer could concentrate and was replaced by Jean Manduka, who was really good at the organ.
Now to near-time: Alan and I moved to N. KY in June of 2001. I didn't think it would be possible to put the piano in our new home. I thought it was too small -- the home, that is, not the piano. So, I gave the piano to my son and DIL because Amy knew how to play. But now that Phil is jobless, and the great possibility that they may have to move, presented us with a problem. What to do with my mom's piano? It is a family heirloom, so to speak, and neither Amy nor I wanted it to go to the dump or leave the family if someone in the family wanted it.
I decided since I was getting rid of my love seat, and replacing my sofa with a smaller one, that I would now have room for the piano and I would "store" it for someone else to have, should they want it, and could come get it.
Now comes another problem: How were we going to get that piano up 18 steps? Anyone who has ever moved a piano knows how heavy they are, even small ones like my mom's. Well, God was so good about that.
You all know, or should know, that we have an elevator to get us from our vestibule to the level on which we live, which is above the garage and another smaller condo directly under us. Well, they measured and guess what? The piano fit in the elevator. They were all so happy that they could get it on there -- no pushing or shoving or gasping for breath to get it upstairs to our living room.
So, you can see, the piano has a home again. I have given away almost all of my music, but we have a hymn book and some sheet music, so I'll have some things to play until I get a chance to get to the music shop to get some new music.
Thank you Lord for getting the piano into my home in one piece and enabling it to get upstairs on the elevator.
When I talked to my sister yesterday -- she's coming to visit me this week -- she told me she has a piano bench for me. Isn't that another wonderful gift? And while we were talking she asked me if I was going to decorate the piano for Christmas. I told her: "That's the first thing I thought about when I saw the piano in its place. I've been mentally putting lights, angels (My mom always had lots of angels on the piano at home), and some greens on the top. Can't wait.
Finally, my new sofa will be arriving on Wednesday. My 2009 decorating is finished.