I’m back in the piano studio while Maxine has her group lesson. I’ve been working on the NYT crossword and other word games.
I used to spend two hours here every week for the kids’ lessons since Edwin was three. I would wrap baby Maxine in a blanket and nestle her in a corner so I could read while she napped as Edwin and his fellow toddlers clapped out rhythms and found middle C.
We’ve come here through snow, rushed in from soccer practice, rushed out to go trick-or-treating. We’ve arrived with containers of apple slices and goldfish to take the edge off after school, bearing Christmas gifts with handmade cards for their teacher, overnight bags packed to head to Nana and Pop’s for a sleepover.
I’ve seen these toddlers grow up into high schoolers, heard the boys’ voices drop an octave or two, watched them stroll in swinging car keys, heard them talk about college applications and SATs. It blew my mind that these children could drive here on their own without their parents. I missed my piano mom and dad friends, now that they no longer had to shuttle their kids here.
Now I’m becoming one of those parents. Edwin drives himself here and often drives Maxine or she catches a ride with another parent. So, I’m not in the studio much these days. It’s kind of comforting being here. Not much has changed in 14 years. In fact, now that I really look around, I don’t think anything has changed besides these tall teens who used to be small (and I have a few more wrinkles and gray hairs).
My Corner of the Village 