Before knitting, there was a piano.

When I hear solo piano, I think of my mother. She and her eventual first husband worked in the same piano store; He moved pianos part-time, she demonstrated them and sold sheet music. Later, we had a piano in the house, and she played piano and organ in the church.

I never bothered the piano much because it was hers. I never saw it as a toy, nor was it very approachable. I only bothered with it when my sister Shelly was messing about with it. I liked the pedals more than the keys, anyway.

Mom taught music in the elementary school for a while, too. It was a little odd to have her there at the piano that was kept in the hall, surrounded by my classmates singing old standards. But it was very nice to hear that piano echoing from far away while I was in History or Math class.

The only thing Mom did better than play piano was sing. In the Catholic church in Delmar, she and her friend Mabs Cullen would sing duets at every mass. It was pure voice, unsullied by accompanying instruments. I just heard from Mabs on the phone. She misses mom as much as we do.

Michael