I'm writing this story in motion as I sit on a 161 bus, going to visit my friend, Claire Bernstein. My body ebbs and flows with the motion of the wheels.
Those wheels are an orchestra, whistling, bumping and crunching over the uneven roads.
It suddenly hits a pothole and the musical notes begin to soar towards the sky.
What stories do these notes tell? Are they happy, lonely or sad? Maybe their lives have changed during the past year as mine has changed.
What instrument are they from? Maybe they tried to attached themselves to an instrument but each one rejected them.
A year ago, they were happy because they were attached to a guitar, bass guitar, ukulele and a snare drum.
Today, they're trying to see if a mandolin would accept them.
These notes are telling the story of my life and how it has changed during the past year.
My husband, Sol, and I have been married for 51 years.
Music has always been a large part of our lives.
However, his physical health has deteriorated so much that he can no longer play piano and I decided to give up the guitar,
Until…
One day I heard a knocking sound. I searched the house.
As I came close to my guitar case, the knocking got louder.
I opened the case.
My guitar was asking me to take it out and play it.
With trembling fingers, I lifted it out of its case and caressed it. Its beauty struck me once again.
Will the musical notes leave my mandolin and attach themselves once more to my guitar?
I decided to take the risk. I opened a music book, put the guitar on my lap and began to play.
Within minutes, I was plucking the strings and the guitar was singing my favorite folk songs.
The notes suddenly fell from the sky and attached themselves to this instrument.
My whole body began to move and I began to sing. This was my whole world.
