For five years no afterschool activities. Just piano practice. Only mother, showing little interest, attended my recitals. I grew to loathe classical music.
Finally, after literally begging, I was set free. Father began happily joining me at the piano with his guitar: Jazz, blues, rock and folk. He started drinking less.
But mother grew sullen. “You’re not playing how they were written.”
One day I came home to find the piano gone.
“Well, since you’re obviously not going to become a classical pianist, I decided to sell it.”
I swear she smirked.