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  • The old piano keyboard lay junked beside the garbage can. As she stared her bottom lip quivered, "But I wanted it. It was mine."
    "Honey, it weighed thousand pounds. Neither of us could afford to move it to the city. I called the Piano Man and he said it was of no use even for parts. The pedals and some of the keys were broken."
    Though grown, her eyes watered and her lip quivered. Another one of those doors you are shoved through in growing up. It's never easy.
    "We took the piano apart as gently as we could. I saved all the good parts for you. The wood is beautiful and you could make something useful of it. Come see."
    I showed her the boards running my hand over the dark walnut stained wood. "You're so talented. You made those benches from the baby bed. Just think about it."
    A few days later she texted, "Save me the keyboard and all the boards. I'm going to come get it. I can make a mantel for the fireplace."
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