She wouldn’t come here unless I brought the piano.
Then, you have to keep the piano.
WE NOTE THE PASSING OF A DEAR FRIEND BY ELIZABETH CROWELL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 105
When Tom Weathersby could no longer take care of his wife, they moved to Hudson Fields, a woodsy retirement community outside of Boston. Tom had hoped that Bitty would stay with him for a while in the two-bedroom apartment, furnished with the piano that she could no longer play, but the admission committee advised that she be taken straight into Berryview, the wing for the memory-impaired, so that she would not have to suffer another transition.
Tom set up the new apartment with the help of his son, Arthur, who lived locally with his wife and three girls. Arthur, an architect, was careful with the look of things and asked Tom if he was sure he wanted to keep the piano, which bumped the corner of one wall and made the room look off.
“I promised Bitty,” Tom said. “She wouldn’t come here unless I brought the piano.”
Arthur nodded, pushing against the piano to move it a…