Recital du Jour

As I type this blog, my husband of 40 years is playing the piano – the same parlor grand where he learned to play, the one many years ago given to his then-eighteen-year-old father.

The mahogany piano cabinet is scratched here and there, despite kind and respectful attempts to keep it blemish-free.  We all know life has its way of marring things. Original ivories (yes, real elephant tusks rather than synthetic plastic keys) peel off periodically and have to be reapplied with super glue.  But the inner strings and hammers are in great shape – they’re protected by a special underside-humidifier and heating bar, as well as regular bi-annual tuning. 

The melodious sounds of familiar tunes/classics/hymns that pour forth from my hubby’s talented fingers bless anyone who might be fortunate enough to listen.  Right now he’s playing a spiritual entitled, “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child.”  I just looked up the lyrics online:

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child

Long way from my home

Sometimes I wish I could fly

Like a bird up in the sky

Oh, sometimes I wish I could fly

Fly like a bird up in the sky

Sometimes I wish I could fly

Like a bird up in the sky

Closer to my home

Motherless children have a hard time

Motherless children have-a such a hard time

Motherless children have such a really hard time

A long way from home

Sometimes I feel like freedom is near

Sometimes I feel like freedom is here

Sometimes I feel like freedom is so near

But we're so far from home

I’m struck by larger truths reflected in this moment and even this particular song – how our exterior bodies are fading scratch by scratch and nick by nick, while our inner heart-songs only grow louder, stronger, more practiced and full of conviction; how the “Motherless Child” reflects human longing and groping for belonging even though eternal “freedom is near.” Living out this life can sometimes feel far from Home, and yet as the song says in the third repeat of the next-to-end line, “Sometimes I feel like freedom is SO near.”