HOME | DD

Description
The music wafted around the room like some alluring scent - familiar but so untouchable and strange.  As thick as honey the notes would stick in the air of the small room, and our laughs mingled with its sweetness.  The sound was kept in those confining walls, but we always knew that they would one day be unleashed unto the world.

Music was like food, sleep, and love in those days.  It was everything we needed and wanted with the bonus of entertainment.  We all lived in a world of score, scales, and staccatos.  My father always said, "No matter what our problems this room is always here for you.  I promise you that." After mom had died he was always firm on what he gave us; I don't think he himself could bear to lose anything else.

I think my earliest memory of that room was when we got our piano.  Four burly men had somehow manoeuvred it up the stairs, and I watched in fascination as they swung it through the dining room.  To this day I still believe that beautiful instrument had been shrunk down with magic to be carried up that long, narrow flight of stairs.

My mother directed them in pushing it into the music room.  Her hand fluttered softly, and with my head resting on her leg I swear I could feel her heart racing.  No one was more excited than mom.

"Your grandma taught me how to play," she said merrily.  Her voice was like music.   "And now I can teach you."