There is an old piano that sits in my living room. Purchased years ago from my Aunt Vesta. My intentions were to learn to play. Oh, I bought books, practiced, and even took piano lessons but never did learn to play. I dust off the keys every now and then and sit down and bang out a fractured tune. It's not what I had intended but it gives me much pleasure and brings back long forgotten memories of the old piano that belonged to my grandmother.

My grandmothers' piano had always looked ancient to me. It was made of dark wood and stood upright in her front parlor. Of course at that young age, my grandmother appeared to be ancient, too. She may have been in her fifties or even younger. I laugh at myself these days when I think of how perspective changes as I age. Now in my sixties I see things so differently and cherish the memories of her and the times we spent visiting in her home.

My paw paw and his sons, my uncles, built the white clapboard house from timber they had milled from their own trees. I spent many an afternoon staring at the beautiful knotty pine walls imaging different objects from the knots. In the dining room a knot had been punched out. I was guilty of putting things down that hole and I'm sure many treasures can be found at the bottom. The house started out with no indoor plumbing, central heat/air, or carpets. I can still remember when they finally got a bathroom at the end of the hall. Central heat and air replaced the wood heater they had in the dining room. Beige carpet covered the floors later as I grew older. Lace curtains on the four windows and one tiny television that only picked up one static filled station was in the parlor.

The front porch had two partial brick columns. A white cement swan filled with green fern sat atop one column. Little green lizards sunned on the steps. Azalea bushes lined the circular drive all the way to the Holly tree. I often caught the glimpse of Red birds on its branches. Pine trees grew profusely in the sandy yard. May Pops , Passion flowers , were found in the ditch beside the dirt road that traveled up the hill to the pond. Blueberry bushes and summer peach trees grew in the side yard. I can still see my Aunt Beverly sitting on an old stump in the back yard learning to yodel.

My parents would let my older sister and I visit for a month in the summers. Those are some of my most memorable times. My paw paw worked in the garden and he would let us help string the beans. Later we could swim in the "blue hole"; the coldest water I have ever experienced. Maw maw would take us blackberry picking in the woods behind their house. When we got back we would pick red bugs off ourselves and she would make a blackberry cobbler. The aunts that still lived at home, Aunt Jane and Beverly, would sometimes take us to Peps Point roller skating. My Uncle Charles and Jupie had quite the reputation there for their exploits on the rink floor. They had at one time won the Greased Pig Contest. The prize, of course, was the pig. The next day the pig got loose and those boys chased that greased pig all over my grandparents land before catching it and penning it back up. Even after they had grown and moved away, I would take one of their old huge skates and skate down the long hall. That is until I would be told to put them back.

The 'boys' had the back room. One full size bed with a feather mattress that when you crawled into it at night it would sink all the way to the floor. Homemade quits piled high in the winter would keep us warm. In the summer we would raise the windows and listen to night birds and fight mosquitoes because of the worn rusty screens with holes.

My grandmother was very creative. She wrote poems and stories and often painted. Sometimes at night she would recite poems and tell us scary stories. My favorite was "Little Orphan Annie" and the stories of panthers in the woods screaming at night. I would never go to the out-house at night. Instead, as a little girl, I would pee off the back porch. I don't think I was the only one. Grass never seemed to grow up next to the back porch.

So many memories. I miss those times. I am so glad I have them. My grandmother and granddad have gone on now to be with the Lord. The uncles and aunts are all aging very gracefully. Out of ten children, only one uncle passed away last summer.

My great grandchildren visit my home now and bang on my piano. I know they see me as ancient, too. I only hope someday when they are grown with children they will have fond memories of an old piano and a place they loved. Maybe they'll think of me, too.