Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Piano


When I was younger, I would sit at my grandfather's house and "play," the piano for him. Grandpa Marcos would tell me, "When your nonna (grandmother) turned seventeen years old, her parents gave her two choices; she could either get a car for her birthday or a piano. She chose the piano." I was always told of my grandma's love for piano and her ethereal talent, which coalesced into beautiful music.

When I was seven, my grandfather passed away, and our entire family reached the nadir of grief, since we all loved him so dearly. My nonna's Steinway piano was left in my possession. This is when I learned to play piano. I began taking lessons, but at first, my true interest was amorphous; it was difficult for such a young girl to tell whether she was actually interested or not. At first, I only thought my family was clapping for me sycophantically to keep me playing and practicing. However, as I learned to play different songs, my interest and talent burgeoned. To this day, piano remains be a special and sentimental hobby of mine.

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