Pink House on the Corner

It was that pink house on the corner that I took piano lessons from about fifth grade to my senior year of HS. I remember it was always on a Friday evening around 7pm. I remember the countless times I tried to get out of going but I would go every week. It was every week after a long day at school, I would sit down for 30 minutes trying to recant what I did or did not practice over the week. Some weeks were great some were not. It would be around this time of year that we would have our piano recital held at the Pleasantville Public Library. Right before my recital in 8th grade, I broke my wrist. I told my piano teacher that I would not be able to play in the recital, but she had other plans for me. That year, I played the right hand of the song that I was supposed to play, while she played the left hand....it turns out the doctor who treated me heard about this and was pleased.

I know that throughout the years, as much as I hated going to take piano lessons, the more and more I was appreciative of them after I stopped taking lessons. There was a relationship far beyond the scales, sharps, flats, on the piano. My piano teacher was not only just a teacher, she became a mentor and a friend. About 5 years ago, she passed away. I was devestated and I couldn't exactly express my feelings about how I truly felt. It was like someone who was part of my life was there no more, even though I had not seen her in ages after her move to North Carolina. My heart ached also for her daughter who was pregnant with twins. After she died, I remember heading straight to Barnes and Noble and picked out a bunch of CDs for Chopin and Mozart. She was a catalyst behind my love for classical music, which by the way I dont listen to as often, but should. I don't touch my piano anymore, but I know I need to pick it up again...more for a tribute for her.

So this morning, I attended the wake for her husband...her husband is being buried today on their wedding anniversary. Her husband will be by her side today. Today was a remember not just for me to remember her husband, but my teacher. I see her face in her kids and grandchildren. I sensed her spirit today and could almost hear her voice. She was also a support for my mother... it's people like this who enter your life you cherish for the amazing lessons in life they teach you. These lessons all came from the basement of the pink house on the corner.