Everyone has that one item that they can’t live without. Maybe it’s a phone or a book or even their car. For me, though, it was my great-grandmother’s piano. Well, I say that like it’s still hers or perhaps that it no longer exists. Neither of those claims are true. Alone, it sits in the main room of my house with the family name emblazoned on the front. When touched, it hums the purest of notes,  sounds that emanate from the core of the stylized wood.
When no one else in your family has any musical talent whatsoever, you take the task of learning to play upon yourself. Most times, this skips generations, depending on the talents and abilities of those raising the children. My great-grandmother was the last person in our family to actually enjoy playing music and this piano is a gentle reminder that I am the one to carry on this legacy. It is one of three major things I inherited from her in March when she passed, the others being my car and the family ring. So seldom I was able to see her these past few years that I decided it was high time I learned to play an instrument outside of the band.
The piano, in all its oaken glory, has its flaws, but I believe that is what makes it all the more beautiful. The slightly off pitch of the lower G key from being played so much in its youthful years. The scratches along the base of the cover from being hastily closed. The wear on the once shiny pedals from years of use. The burn on the top from a lamp that overheats. All of these flaws and more make the piano more precious to the family. Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but there is no mistaking the delicacy of the white keys and the sleek wood.
Before her final days, my great-grandmother would sit at the bench for hours at a time, playing through all the songs she knew and remembered from her childhood. In the seat of the bench lie dozens of music books from the 20s, 30s, and 40s, scores from church and school musicals, and even pieces torn from magazines. I’ve added my own music to the collection as I learn the pieces and print off the sheets. I often sat with her as she played, listening, and sometimes demonstrating my own progress of this self-taught skill.
Unlike other instruments, the piano has a simple and passive presence. If one wishes to demonstrate their abilities in a public place, they simply have to sit down and begin playing, whereas any other instrument requires prep time and a dramatic display of pulling it out of the case. Being tuned in the key of C as it is, it is one of the easiest instruments to learn to play...and yet, it seems to always be the most meaningful. The violin may have a more soulful tone, but the piano has a more sincere sound when played well.
That’s how my great-grandmother played it, and that’s how I learned to play as well. Songs are just an interpretation of notes on a page; it is the player that adds the emotion. That’s the most important thing about it. So much emotion has passed through the keys and the strings within and yet it still holds true to the notes when played today. I can honestly say that that piano has helped me through some hard times on my own when nothing else would work. It was loyally waiting there for the keys to be pressed once more when I couldn’t lose myself in my work or mentally travel to another place. It has been there through thick and thin with its off key lower G and its scratches. I believe that as long as I play, my great-grandmother lives on in the music.