Farewell, My Friend

This morning I said farewell to a lifelong friend.

I can't remember ever not having this friend.  Family legend has it coming to our family via my Grandparents who purchased it "used" back in the dark ages.  At one time we researched this particular piano and came up with a possible manufacture of 1925 or thereabouts.  

I took a couple years worth of lessons - all my parents could afford - and from there we were best buds.  I can't recall Mom ever telling me to practice, I doubt she needed to.  This friend of mine was always waiting and ready for me to plunk down on the bench and reach out my hands and start the communication process.

Our relationship was limited only by my skill (or lack thereof), the music available and my time parameters.  I took every emotion imaginable to this piano - my joy, my frustration, my anger, and when pushed to play when I really didn't want to play - my reluctance.  Still, though, there was a connection.

We've hauled this piano from home to home, city to city, state to state.  It truly has been my steadfast friend.  I shall always consider it so.

Recently I've been thinking about sending it to another home.  Didn't think anyone would actually want it.  It has been through some stuff.  And clearly needs a loving touch.  Then....I heard from my cousin that she was looking for a piano.  Didn't want to spend a lot.  She has a granddaughter in need of a piano.  Today was moving day.

My cousin brought her kids and grandchilluns and a large trailer and they had that heavy friend of mine loaded in nothing flat.  Added a couple towels for protection and cinched down the straps and off they went.  

I confess:  my heart was sad.  I think my cousin is doing something wonderful for her granddaughter.  No one can really hurt this piano - after all, it once jumped over the side of a pick-up truck, and left every single ivory topped key strewn across the pavement.  But....for someone with a desire to learn to play the piano and not many other options, well, I think this is a good place for my friend.  And a side benefit is this little girl will enjoy the piano her great-great grandmother once played.

One might ask - what about my own children?  That was a mental process I went through over and over.  Child #1 already has two pianos and not really room for another.  (They aren't quite like children in that there's always room for one more....) Child #2 is living "lean" and doesn't really want that kind of encumbrance.  Child #3 purchased the piano that he and his wife chose together - and he does not play.  Child #4 has access to a piano anytime she wants.  

I do expect a bit of grief concerning my peremptory decision to donate the piano to a good cause.  I have been the recipient of such grief in the past - from my siblings.  However, I stand firm.  The piano was mine.  And it was more my friend than anyone else's.  I sincerely doubt that anyone in the piano's history spent as many hours with it as I did and I'm certain no one spent more.

And my hope:  that a new friendship is formed.  One as abiding and beneficial as ours has been.  I wish you find your new home to be a good one.  Farewell, my friend, I will miss you.