Remembrance
I didn't plan this for today, but a series of comments on Making Light reminded me of an elderly woman I used to know. I met her when I was a teen, at church, and she was a pianist. Not that she was allowed to play in the church. Sometimes she was allowed to play for casual events in the gym, though, which is when I found out she put a bit of honky tonk and swing into every hymn. She had never married and had naturally curly fluffy white hair. She always dressed in suits with jewelry and was perfectly turned out, and boy, could she play piano.
She became frail enough that she had to move to a nursing home and because it was a state home, it was a good drive from my house, so I only went to visit every week. At first, she could transfer from the wheelchair to the piano bench and play and I'd sing but later she couldn't manage and we just sat and talked. The staff told me I was the only person to come visit, so I was sorry when I went into the hospital for the first long time. I called her every week when I was conscious during those nine months and she died soon after I came home. I still remember her big smile when she played piano.
She became frail enough that she had to move to a nursing home and because it was a state home, it was a good drive from my house, so I only went to visit every week. At first, she could transfer from the wheelchair to the piano bench and play and I'd sing but later she couldn't manage and we just sat and talked. The staff told me I was the only person to come visit, so I was sorry when I went into the hospital for the first long time. I called her every week when I was conscious during those nine months and she died soon after I came home. I still remember her big smile when she played piano.
