Piano

     There's this piano that my parents bought especially for me when I was about in 5th grade. It was so long ago that I can't even remember when it exactly happened, but I remember being so excited when I got it. I still have it today. It's a light brown, wooden piano. Very simple, but very beautiful. It was used, but that made it a lot more comfortable because someone else had already broken it in for me... Today my mom told me she's selling that piano. I know that I quit piano years ago since I've moved, and haven't played that old thing in a long time, but I couldn't stand the thought of giving it away. I tried to convince, well more so argue with, my mom to keep it but she insisted it was her decision and that I have no say. The farewell of my piano apparently has nothing to do with me.

     It's hard to explain why I got so emotional when I learned that my wooden box of black and white keys is going away. Frankly I hated learning to play the piano. I dreaded my lessons with my teacher every week, that I even cried to get out of them sometimes. But this piano represents memories and it's always been there with me. Although it sits in the corner collecting dust, it's still there. The piano is the one thing that I called mine, and had some sentimental meaning to it. To me, it doesn't matter that I don't play it anymore. My parent's bought it for me and I loved the thought of having something so beautiful in my possession. It was something that I didn't have to share because I was the only one who knew how to play it. Even though I wasn't very good, I found it special being able to even play one song. If I knew that it came with conditions to keep it, I would have easily followed them. 

     There was a very happy time in my life that I vividly remember, and it was around the time I had gotten the piano. I was living in the warm weather of Louisiana, had a nice house with the most friendly neighbors, a great relationship with my parents, and amazing friends. I didn't necessarily have Jesus prominent in my life, but life was still good as far as I was able to comprehend. This time period is something I often look back on, because I had so many things going right in the short span of a couple years. Something that I really remember are my parents. During that time was when I had the best relationship with them. We'd often go out to spend time together, they came to my award ceremonies, and knew all of my friends. Let's just say they were a lot more invested in me then. Now things are slightly different and my parents aren't that involved in my life as they used to. It's not that I want them to know everything about anything, but as time has gone by they seem to know less and less about me. Normally my parent's aren't really the type who are extremely interested in everything about their kids anyways; they just aren't those type of people. Except it just saddens me because as I'm being stripped of my piano, I've realized that they probably don't even know my favorite flavor of ice cream or how I like making dumb YouTube videos for fun. They don't know these things because their desire to learn has passed. It's not like I want them to be involved in every little aspect of my life; except it's offensive how they're taking away my piano and acting like they know what it means to me. They think it's nothing.

     It sounds like I'm blaming my parents but I'm not. It just frustrates me when they say I have nothing to do with the decision with my piano. It reminds me of how they've progressively taken the time to know less about me and disregard my opinions and thoughts. They cared enough to buy me it for me when I was a kid, but now as a teenager it's stripped without hesitation. Maybe I don't play the piano anymore, but I thought the least I deserved was a heads up that a piece of my happy memory is being exchanged for meaningless money. It all comes down to the fact that the worth of my piano to me personally, doesn't matter as much to my parents compared to the money they'll get from it. They're literally making money from my memories. Maybe it's slightly over dramatic and symbolic of me, but this insignificant musical instrument is so much more than something that makes sound. But I guess a piano to you is not a piano to me.