A real life romance…
I visited my aunt yesterday. The last of my mother’s siblings. Two years ago, at age 84, she remarried and moved to Dayton. Sold her farm. Sold the house she’d been born in. Moved into a small cottage in the city with her new husband, also a widower. He was once a professional musician, and the minute she met him, she says she longed to play piano to his guitar. I don’t know if it was love at first sight, but after six years of lonely widowhood, rattling around that huge farm house–she wasted no time grabbing onto that sweet man. And they began to make music together. If my mother were still aive, she’d think her baby sister had lost her mind. And maybe Mom would be right–being in love is a bit like being insane. And yet…and yet… As I watched her bouncing around on the piano bench, pounding the keys while he played guitar, I thought that perhaps she’d added another ten years to her life with music and hope and companionship. I applauded with my heart as well as my hands. Then Aunt Mary surprised us. She whipped out a harmonica and played a mean accompaniment […]