Instrument (Favorite Things, Six)

Herself had ten years of piano lessons -- from second grade through senior year of high school. She remembers well the very first few weeks:  her family had not received delivery of the piano yet, and so she would go to the next-door neighbor's house to practice.  When she did not understand the music, Mrs. K, a lovely, kindly woman, would help her.  Soon, Herself's family's piano arrived; such a momentous occasion.  Thirty-five years later, that piano still resides in Herself's parents' living room.

Mrs. F was Herself's teacher for seven or eight years. Eternally patient, Mrs. F never raised her voice. She set down instructions and lesson plans in pencil in her beautiful cursive handwriting.  Herself and the other students would play with the latest crop of kittens in Mrs. F's downstairs room while waiting their turns for lessons. Mrs. F would make Rice Crispies treats for the students during the end-of-year Piano Guild individual grading sessions. 

Eventually, Mrs. F had an immense studio built over her garage to house her two grand pianos.  Herself would bicycle over to Mrs. F's house, enter through the back and go up the long staircase to the studio.  When new carpeting was put into the studio, during group lessons all of the students would quietly comb the carpeting and make small orange piles of carpet fluff in front of themselves.

Mr. U, a suave and cultured gentleman with longer flowing hair, was Herself's teacher for the last few years.  Herself's mother would drive her across town to the formal music school where he held lessons.  He would stride through the room, gesturing animatedly and occasionally smoking cigarillos.  He had an elderly dachshund of whom he was quite fond.  He would sometimes write instructions in the music in -- gasp! -- PEN.

Herself's mother required that Herself and Sister practice the piano for an hour a day. They usually did so.  Occasionally, they would bend the truth slightly about the length of time, since it was difficult to accomplish all of the homework and that hour of practice in a single evening. 

There were many recitals as well. Herself does not like to think about them, so she does not.  She chooses instead to remember the pleasure of learning a new piece of music, for that was marvelous indeed.

Herself did not play the piano much in college; access to an instrument was difficult to find.  After college, there was graduate school, marriage, work, and Offspring the First and Offspring the Second in quick succession -- she was far to busy to even think about piano.

The month before Herself's thirtieth birthday, she and the family moved to this desert land.  She left behind the state where she was born and raised, and all of her colleagues from the only job she had ever had.  Offspring the First and Second were still quite small -- Second was still in diapers -- and she knew no one except for her Beloved.   It was hard.  She continued to work part time, telecommuting, and the Offspring attended preschool. She was busy still, but there were pockets of time opening up.  Thoughts of the piano crept back in.

The month after Herself's thirtieth birthday, she and her Beloved purchased her piano.  Wonderful.

Fourteen years later, the piano graces Herself's study.  Some weeks, she spends quite a bit of time with it; other weeks, not as much.  Nevertheless, she is enormously grateful for all those years of lessons.  The piano provides exactly what is needed every time: occupation for the fingers and the mind; soothing and invigorating sound; the mental challenge of a new piece of music.  When she is fraught or sorrowful, the piano helps, for it brings her comfort.  A magificent instrument, the piano.

The piano entertains her.  It keeps her company.  It brings her happiness.

Piano:  joy and solace.