Coming Home


Ten years ago, as I was trying to downsize my life, my middle son agreed to take our family baby grand piano. At the time I thought it was a permanent move. I couldn’t see that I was ever going to have it in my own home again. Afterall, I was on my own, trying to live on a very reduce income after my divorce. At the time I was living in a two bedroom apartment and just couldn’t have a baby grand piano. Over the years, I lived in one apartment after the next trying to find a place that seemed comfortable enough to call home. In the end, I had to admit to myself the truth: I was not an apartment kind of person.

In February of 2016, on my 60th birthday, I moved to a wonderful 900 sq. ft., two bedroom house, with a huge backyard.I am so happy to have my own house. Even though it is a rental it is all mine. I even planted an herb garden and grew my own herbs this summer, which was just lovely. This past weekend though the arrival of my piano has not only made me so happy, but has also made my house feel like my house for the first time in a long time.

It has come back to me with a few scratches on the bench from my little granddaughters playing on it over the years, but that just adds to its character. It isn’t as shiny as it was when I was a girl, because that is how long this piano has been in our family, some 50 years. Some people thought I was crazy for bringing this huge instrument back into my house. I looked at it as an anchor, but in a good way. I see it as something to hold me in place, to keep me from moving again (I have moved about 15 times in the last 20 years – I’ll write about that in another post), to make me feel at home. It has made me feel at home, and the ability to sit down whenever I want and play a little is really wonderful, a luxury.

I can honestly say that for the first time in a very long time, my house feels like home again.


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