I listened to the grandmother and granddaughter, playing piano.
One played the left hand, the other played the right.
Both in student mode, playing Hisaishi's 'One Summer Day' in Spirited Away for the 1st time.
Half a century and beyond of piano experience at work.
I leant from the side on the couch, only a few breaths away.
For the most part, closed my eyes.
My childhood was unfolding in sync with their playing:
The obedient boy who chased his father.
And the reckless boy running amuck in the safe space of his mother.
Years on, not much has changed.
The man who seeks worthiness and creating a meaningful life.
The man who shudders from towering commitments.
The uncomfortable comfort that he grew up with lingers at the core.
I’m brought back to present by the ladies' conversation mid-play.
Something about how the chords are unconventional...
The loving trust between the two, channeled throughout the room.
Amplified or for a better word, reaffirmed by their virtuoso harmony.
And I let the tears fall down my face.
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