Nana's piano bag

Anyone who knew Nana knows what this is, and can guess what I was doing with it this afternoon. I can't say much about this piece of my grief. A friend this week tapped this important part of my loss, by sharing a memory in music for his own mother.

Of course the music has always been the thread that held us together, or as together as we were willing to be held. But today, hearing from my own fingertips the sounds I most associate with my mother, from a time that started beyond my memory, sounds that have never not been there for me... is a feeling that I have no words to relate.