Holding a Grudge

"Perception is created and twisted

so quickly."

Louis C. K. 

 

 

My father's parents individually came to America from Sweden.  They met in Springfield, Illinois, and later moved to Chicago, Illinois, to marry and raise a family.  My father resided in Chicago for most of his life.  When my paternal grandparents passed, we found in their basement a very old upright piano made out of mahogany wood.  With a little 'spit and polish' it shined into a beautiful keep sake.  My older sister began piano lessons in her early grade school years, continuing well into high school.  Many years later, when my daughter was in second grade, we brought the old antique piano to our home.  She began lessons immediately and played well into high school. 

It was no surprise when numerous years passed,  my granddaughter then kindergarten age, took special interest in playing the piano.  She loved my daughter and watched her play the piano numerous times. One day, my granddaughter opened the piano bench and rifled through the sheet music as though she were searching for a particular piece.  She finally withdrew one, and gently placed it right where it belonged and lovingly opened the sheets.  She delicately placed her fingers upon the piano keys and began to play, turning pages as she went.  This beautiful child had never had any lessons and when she played it was very obvious she had not had any instruction whatsoever.

In spite of her inability to play, she never hammered upon the keys or disrespected the piano in any way.  She would routinely choose her music from the bench, and then spend indefinite time gently playing random keys and timely turning pages.  The family quickly learned the child would be offended if we laughed or teased, so she was always left to her odyssey.   She continued doing this for years.

When my daughter married, she requested to have the piano in her home.  I knew it would always go to her, but how would I explain the removal to my granddaughter?  It had to be done.  So the next time my granddaughter visited, I explained to her the piano was going to go to its rightful owner, my daughter. 

Shock registered on her face as she sat on the piano bench absorbing this devastating news.  I watched her desperately searching for a response.  Finally she turned her big blue eyes towards me and asked, "Ummmm, could we just give her the bench?"

My granddaughter is many years wiser now and she would be horribly embarrassed by being named in this story; however, it is one of my favorites.   My daughter still plays the old piano and I do believe my granddaughter still holds a grudge!