She belonged to someone else. And before that, to that owner's mother, a 12th birthday gift ... in 1926. Through a mutual friend, she came to us, the owner not knowing at the time that I tend to breathe through my fingers.
That this relationship I have with keys, however imperfect, has been one of the longest-standing in my life thus far.
...Or that these children were born with music-blood pumping in their veins.
Right now there are two of them, my grandparents' upright I played in their Indiana home growing up. And this newly adopted black beauty.
Siblings from different mothers sharing a room.
She'll need some extra love to help her sing on pitch.
It'll take time - at least three tunings and perhaps some replacing of internal organs.
But we've waited her arrival eagerly...
And she will be loved here. :)