my grandmother's piano

-"Nicole, I dont know how to tell you this, but this really doesn't go with your apartment."
-"umm..you have to go home now, kthanksbye"


that old, bulky thing taking up valuable space in my apartment? that's my grandmother's piano.

well, not technically.... but for this blog, we'll call her it hers because in effect not only is it hers, but it is her.

One of my most cherished memories, not only of my grandmother, but also of my childhood is the impromptu piano lessons we had on her beautiful, white Baby Grand piano in her apartment on the Venetian. Without having ever taken a piano lesson myself, my abuela took the PATIENCE to teach my 7 year old fidgety self how to play entire songs, all on her own without the help of sheet music (not that i could understand any of that at that time).

Thanksgiving, Christmas, any birthday, any occassion, it was her and I doing our graceful rendition of Heart and Soul. She would of course do the most difficult part (bass clef) but always gave me all the credit for it with the 6 notes (measily treble clef) i was in charge of and so diligently tried my best at. "yayyyy nicki!!! bravoo!! preciosia!! la muneca de abuela!!!"

The piano is something my grandmother and well her 4 sisters were raised learning how to play in Holguin, Cuba. They all played it immaculately, any song, you name it. But instead of Chopin, Mozart, or Beethoven, we often opted for Guantanamera and Heart and Soul. (and id throw in a lil Fur Elise if I reallllly wanted to impress the crowd).

Abuela had four wishes for me: learn a bit of french, perform in a ballet recital, know my way around the court with tennis, and play learn how to play, at least,Moonlight Sonata for her on the piano.

"All young ladies must know, although not everything, but a bit and a pinch of each. "

So i did as she said, I was,figuratively speaking, enrolled in the Cultural Institute of Abuela.

However, French came and went, ballet came and went, tennis came and went (and came again recently), but Piano stuck with me.

She told me if I kept up my lessons, shed buy me my own piano and when I was 15 years old, she fulfilled this promise. I went with her and my grandfather to pick it out.

Okay, now after playing on a White Baby Grand piano which was always impeccably displayed in the corner and seemed like it was straight out of a French museum, I thought id get the same thing.... much to my grand dismay, it was either a grand piano or the chance of perhaps affording college tuition one day.

We settled on a quaint, vertical, Baldwin, cherry wood piano.

I was in love. We were inseperable for those first couple of months. I was eager to practice every song in the playbook and always looked forward to piano recitals, my grandmother sitting in the first row. Tuesdays with instructor Senora Elena were the highlight of my week.

But....as life proves, love can fade away...what was once the shining light in your life may eventually make its way to corner of the garage.

About 6 years ago, once I was already away in College, my parents bought their own black baby grand piano, my sister was now playing and my poor Baldwin was shoved to the garage.

When i moved back down I insisted on bringing it out of the garage and in with chantel to our new uber trendy apartment. I think i lied and made up some excuse about how they moved it "by mistake" and waited for it to grow on her as i postponed the whole "oh man these piano movers dont answer the call....."...she let me keep it. We would gather around and take turns at attempting "Valse D'Amelie"

Then i moved to New York and that ofcourse meant Baldwin was put back in its rusty corner.

It remained there ever since.

About a month ago, 8 months after my grandparents' passing, my parents threatened to give it away. Rightfully so, i mean NO instrument should ever be abandoned and summoned to the garage. They figured I would never bring in that old, rusty, clunky, brown thing into my apartment, which ive meticulously picked each and every decoration in there.

But ive insisted. So Baldwin, which doesn't fit in with anything else whatsoever, now resides with me and always will.


That old thing? .....that's my grandmothers gift to me. A gift I will use to learn how to play Clair de Lune and will attempt to master Moonlight Sonata. Its this gift I will use to teach my own kids Heart and Soul and then one day teach my grandkids the same.

the paint is starting to whither and the keys are yellowing...but its my piano. and I love it, the same way Elizabeth Gilbert described her love for travel...

"because i adore it...because its mine..because it looks like me"