How she remembers her father’s love for her, translated…
Opening up the door, the setting sun came in through the window, entered in from the foyer, that old piano leaned against the bookshelves, the shadows dragged across the ivory floors, as if, retelling the stories of my father and me, it’d, opened up that dusted file in my memories again…
It was the 1990s, as the summer became unbearable in southern Taiwan. In my teenage years, I was, confused and stressed out about my future, seeing how all my peers had found their separate colleges to enter into, readied themselves for flight, and I was, trapped, inside the cage of the teacher’s college, with no place to go. An assortment of miseries, got stuck inside my throat, they had, no place to go.
One afternoon, I’d, let loose, and every single feeling of upset rushed up and erupted out of me, I’d, grilled my father who was home from his hard day in the fields, “It’s unfair! Why must I attend teacher’s college instead of a normal university? I want to go to a university!” at that very moment, my father didn’t say a single word, but I saw his face drawn, filled with that strong sense of loss, and nostalgia. My matter-of-fact ranting, disregarded how hard he’d, worked, I’d, become, more pompous, compared to his humbled ways.
As the seasons shifted into the colorful autumn, an elegant piano, sat, awkwardly, in the farming family’s living. My father was smiling from ear to ear, as he’d told me, “Autumn, your college was paid for by the scholarships, you’d cost us the least amount of money, this piano, is my way of compensating you for helping the family out!“
Atthat very moment, I’d felt such a, strong sense of shame. How ignorant I was, what an unfittingdaughter I’d been! Back then, we were,having a hard enough time, to have enough food for everybody, my parents workedtheir fingers to the bones, and, the money for the piano, should’ve been usedas the registration fees of my sibling’s education. But, because of my stubbornness, my fatherhad to let go of his own pride, and, borrowed the money from all of ourfriends, relatives, and family, to make the ends of the house meet up.
like this??? photo from online
And just like that, piano had, entered, into my life, and, accompanied me along.
The show was over, the music, stopped, my father had been gone many years. He’d not left many things behind, people being born in that era of upheaval, came in the fire, and went out in the wind, they leave and take nothing, but the love that they carried for their loved ones.
An old piano, it’d, connected the land of my hometown, my nostalgia, my youth, along with a ton of love my father had, shown me, and, playing that piano became, my pain-relief from missing my father. Every time I’d played his favorite tune, “Looking into the Spring Breeze”, it was, as if, I could, hear him, sing that song, his face, his smile, I can still see very clearly. And so, I’d become, more than willing to, play the songs, repeatedly, again, and again, and again, to remember the love he’d given to me.
And so, the piano became, a sort of an inheritance, an inheritance of her father’s love for her, and now, after her father passed, she still played the piano which was given to her as a gift to her father, to remember the love her father had, given to her.