The Steinway

Though my morning began with the same fears of yesterday, I am close to Deb's now. I count the miles, ticking off the number of hours before I will reach the safety of her home and her known surroundings. Silly, really, to think that all the fright will dissipate just because my sister will be with me. But that is how it is.

Family connection, the support and help of another human being, is tremendous. Keep those avenues open and well oiled - in both directions! I arrive around 3pm. I am so happy to see Deb and John, my brother who is staying with her. My blood pressure returns to something resembling normal. Hallelujah. I am safe.

Deb built a house a couple of years ago, and this is the first I have seen it in person. It is absolutely gorgeous. A castle really, on 5 acres of land. I love the stone work and the window space. She has nearly 7,000 sq ft of room filled with warm colors and a kitchen to die for. Not to mention a shower straight out of House Beautiful with shower heads coming at you from every possible angle.

What catches your eye as you enter the front door is a beautiful Steinway grand piano, signed by the elder Steinway. I touch the keys lovingly and the sound is mellow and pleasing. Deb plays me some music and it floats up the stairwell and fills the house with joy. The piano is the anchor of this structure, housed in the lower level of the library and casting an elegant tone both literally and figuratively.

I once had a Steinway, a piano abandoned at a moving company, a piano with a sad story. It seems that the moving company somehow lost the legs to the piano, and had to pay to replace the entire piano for the people who had entrusted it to their care since alternate legs could not be found to match the rest of the instrument. The owner of the moving company took a terrible loss on it, and tucked it away out of sight.

I happened to run across it one day and asked about it. He told me that if I paid to move it I could have the darn thing and good riddance. I was ecstatic. I found a friend with a trailer who was willing to help and we moved the legless wonder to my apartment. I propped it up on cement blocks (who cares about appearances - I wanted the sound) and was overjoyed to become the new owner of a Steinway!

It too was an anchor in my tiny apartment and served me well. Sound is such heart medicine, whether from a beat up abandoned piano or a spanking new Steinway. And today, I am happy for the soul soothing. Sigh. My heart is much happier thinking on music than stressing over unfounded fears.