Day 13

Day 13 -- lucky 13. And I mean that. I know about the superstition surrounding this number, but I've always had good luck with it.

Those who really know me will understand when I say that today's image is very personal. This is a very dear friend that I've known since I was 12. My parents bought this when we moved to SLC. All my siblings have enjoyed this wonderful instrument playing sweet and sometimes loud  and crazy tunes.  The grand kids (my nieces and nephews) have pounded on this with everything from tonka trucks to batons. That explains some of the chipped keys. It has been through three floods. The worst was water as high as the keys.  The action swelled. I disassembled it -- I'll post a picture one day so you'll understand -- and let it dry for 2 weeks and then painstakingly re-glued, adjusted a zillion components from felt to the wood action to the hammer heads that strike the keys.  I could see the original pencil marks that the craftsmen who built the action left. I have re-glued many of the plastic "ivory" keys. That flood was more than two decades ago and still to this day I have to re-glue a few pieces. My parents purchased a new model and allowed me to be the care giver of this precious item. No, it doesn't play the same as it did when it was young, but then neither do I. Why should I judge? We make a great team and at times wonderful music. I sometimes just play abstractly reflecting the mood I'm in. This is my therapist.

My friend has been there during my darkest times and patiently waits for me to strike up a conversation. Joins me in load raucous bedlam to help alleviate my frustrations. And yet is there to share in those glorious fulfilling moments in life when I am so happy I could bust. Yes, this friend always mirrors my mood and in the end allows me to find my way back. I can ignore it for months yet there it is patiently asking how I am today. Never complains, never demands, always willing to share with me. Never directs me nor stops me. Just allows me to be me. I know this is an inanimate object, but I've always liked the concept of unconditional love. It's simple yet extremely difficult. I keep trying it out, been burned badly a couple times, but my sweet wife encourages me to keep trying reminding me that there are many out there who need someone to believe in them. Can I just allow you to be you and not ask for anything in return? I think so, it's just scary sometimes.