My parents were over for dinner this past weekend. As they were leaving, my dad stopped near our baby grand.
“Do you know that soon I’ll be the same age as there are piano keys?” He paused. “Eighty eight.” He sounded proud. I smiled.
I was impressed he came up with that fact. We’ve had a piano since our girls were young, and I’ve never thought about counting the keys. I guess it’s something I should’ve just known.
“Wow, Dad. It’s hard to believe you’re going to be 88. Can’t wait to celebrate with you in a couple of weeks.”
That night I thought about the keys. Fifty two white and thirty six black. All there for a purpose. Each one is important. If one isn’t working or is out of tune, it changes the song. The keys work together, as a team, to create the perfect harmony. Like people.
I was surprised at how many ways piano keys can relate to our lives.
Some sound prettier than others. Some are loud, low, booming, and powerful. Others are light, tinkly, soft, and happy. On their own, they aren’t complete. But together, they make beautiful music.
Imagine being in a concert hall. The lights go down and the audience is silent. A soft spotlight beams on a pianist, alone on the stage sitting at a grand piano. The music starts slow and soft. Peaceful. It eventually gets louder and more dramatic. Peaking at an emotional level. It seems as if the pianist is unaware of the thousands of people watching. His body moves from side to side, his eyes closed. His head bobs up and down, as he feels the urgency of the melody. The confusion, the anger, the desperation. Toward the end of the song, the pianist relaxes and gently plays the final notes.
The audience erupts into applause. We’re grateful for the experience. We’re thankful the pianist shared his talent with us. We’re hopeful to feel like this again.
There are joyful, lighthearted songs and intense, bitter, and passionate ones. Some are brilliant, while others are not as profound. There are symphonies that make us dance, and others that make us cry.
Just like the days, weeks, months, and years of our lives.
It amazes me that my dad will be 88-years-old. A piano key to represent each year. Played together, there’s no end to the beautiful music.
First image courtesy of here
Second image courtesy of here