If there is truly an after life, will I be judged evil and committed to Hell forever for selling a member of the family? Last week I sold my piano and the young woman who bought it took it away today.
Bethany, the young missionary who has just returned from China, came in and gave me a big hug. She promised to cherish my Art Deco, Story and Clark beauty. She is getting it tuned immediately. I saw her lovingly stroke the cherry wood, claiming the piano as her own. When she played it, the music was heavenly.
In my heart I know it is going to a good home and down the road when finances are better I will buy another one. (or steal one, as long as I am probably headed to hell anyway!)
Funny, when making music with an instrument a minor miracle occurs. The wood and metal and strings transform from an inanimate object into an almost sentient being. I am using the word "almost" because the soundness of my sanity is already under suspicion and I don't want to add any fuel to the fire! (Shh, "they" are watching!)
With my piano, actually any piano that has ever lived under my roof, and my guitars, I believe that a part of my spirit and soul travels from my heart, down my arms, through my finger fingertips and infuses the instrument with a life and soul of it's own. This piano was especially enriched. Each of my grandchildren have sat at it making music since they were babies!
My grandson sits to play Ozzie Osbourne's "Crazy Train" and other bits and pieces of rock tunes. Two of my granddaughters have written their own songs with this piano. One granddaughter has actually written lyrics for her songs and they are good! My dad has played the Boogie Woogie on it, he also plays Chopin's Polonaise and the Hamm's beer song! My niece taught my granddaughter's a song and they play it every time they pass by the piano. Everybody in the family plays Beethoven's Fur Elise and various little ditties. I loved all those moments.
Piano, I will miss you! Don't worry about me; I'm Catholic, I will confess the sin of selling a beautiful family member and may only get a couple of eons of Purgatory. Knowing you and sharing those memories was worth it.
Bethany, the young missionary who has just returned from China, came in and gave me a big hug. She promised to cherish my Art Deco, Story and Clark beauty. She is getting it tuned immediately. I saw her lovingly stroke the cherry wood, claiming the piano as her own. When she played it, the music was heavenly.
In my heart I know it is going to a good home and down the road when finances are better I will buy another one. (or steal one, as long as I am probably headed to hell anyway!)
Funny, when making music with an instrument a minor miracle occurs. The wood and metal and strings transform from an inanimate object into an almost sentient being. I am using the word "almost" because the soundness of my sanity is already under suspicion and I don't want to add any fuel to the fire! (Shh, "they" are watching!)
With my piano, actually any piano that has ever lived under my roof, and my guitars, I believe that a part of my spirit and soul travels from my heart, down my arms, through my finger fingertips and infuses the instrument with a life and soul of it's own. This piano was especially enriched. Each of my grandchildren have sat at it making music since they were babies!
My grandson sits to play Ozzie Osbourne's "Crazy Train" and other bits and pieces of rock tunes. Two of my granddaughters have written their own songs with this piano. One granddaughter has actually written lyrics for her songs and they are good! My dad has played the Boogie Woogie on it, he also plays Chopin's Polonaise and the Hamm's beer song! My niece taught my granddaughter's a song and they play it every time they pass by the piano. Everybody in the family plays Beethoven's Fur Elise and various little ditties. I loved all those moments.
Piano, I will miss you! Don't worry about me; I'm Catholic, I will confess the sin of selling a beautiful family member and may only get a couple of eons of Purgatory. Knowing you and sharing those memories was worth it.
I'd give anything to have my drum set or my twelve string guitar back. I so understand.
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