[I wanted to write this earlier...but the words weren’t there. Well, now they’ve come]
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She was so frail.
Somehow I still remember so vividly. (small wonder)
Family members gathered around.
Waiting.
What could I say? Words can seem so empty.
I faced the keys. Often I had played them - many Sabbath afternoons.
Friendships had developed on those keys. Hearts opened and bound together.
Music does that.
So what now? What did I want her to hear one last time? What promise did I want her to grasp, hold, live, and die on?
Flipping through my book, I chose deliberately.
‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take Him at His word.
Just to rest upon His promise,
Just to know ‘Thus saith the Lord.’
Fingers caressed the black and white ever so gingerly.
The last notes faded into the air, seemingly dying in the silence.
That was the last time I saw her.
A couple weeks later I stood beside the box of death suspended over the gaping earth.
I want to go to heaven
And pick a never fading flower...
Amazing grace
How sweet the sound!
Singing doesn’t come easy to a throat aching with tears. It’s not natural.
The preacher prayed.
The small group paid their respects and dispersed.
Then he came up to me. Her husband - bent over with his own grief, holding the leash of their dog...his dog now.
“Aubrey, those last few moments Fran asked something. It was her dying wish. She wants you to take her piano. She always loved hearing you play and wants you to keep playing for others”
I stood stunned.
The fountain of tears that had brimmed close whilst I sang burst their seams.
Why is it we can never give more than we receive - that gifts come back in greater fold?
It’s been several years now.
The piano just recently moved residents - now a part of the Seiler family.
Every time I touch the keys, I remember the gift, the grace...I remember Fran.
I remember gifts must stay gifts.
Fransi Ann - the piano
