Unexpected Gifts

Grief is such a wild trip. For days on end, I've been frantically cleaning and organizing, getting rid of my things, not his. Things that have been here 14 years and rarely used. Or things that are meant for two or a crowd—large pots and pans, grilling tools never used, board games never played. Or things that when I look at them cause great pain: once used hats we bought in France when it was so cold; ski gloves Jim bought me because I forgot mine; the slippers I bought Jim because chemo gave him neuropathy.

I've been combing through files and photos, saving his voice messages to me, reading my diaries especially from when we first started seeing each other. I know all of this is because I'm looking for what I will never find. Jim.

While Jim was alive and I would travel, I would always wander over to the hotel's piano bar as I so missed Jim's daily piano playing - often twice a day. When I realized that he would no longer be in my life, I had asked him to record his playing so I could listen after he died. At the end Jim told me that he had been unsuccessful in recording. I was pretty crestfallen.

But here is the gift: two nights ago I turned on his piano and discovered that it had recorded to its memory just under 30 pieces of him playing. Some of the pieces are but just bits, starts and start-overs. Others are fully pieces. When I listen to either I can just see him in my mind, and the gentle touch of the keys reminds me of his touch. The playful pieces remind me of his silliness. It's like I've found some of his spirit that I can return to over and over.

So here's Jim's second gift. I am learning. I've never been an audio person and it's been a longtime since I did 3D art, special effects, or video editing. I'm learning the interface of his piano recording device, I've found his piano tuner, I'm learning GarageBand, now Soundcloud, and iTunes. In my grief, Jim and his son Patrick and daughter-in-law Emily have given me this. I think Jim must be smiling. Thank you honey.

AnnDeMarle · Jim Reda Piano