THE VIOLIN


Having no children of their own in some way this was the child he and Beth had born together, Glenn laid the rare violin on the red silk of the case interior as gently as a sleeping child.  His wife had caressed, cuddled,  and wept with it over the years  her music  none other had ever sounded as sweet or perfect in tone and pitch as when  she played . The three had been around the world, heard in every country from the largest to the smallest of venues. They traveled with it always in one of their laps, never had it been regulated to luggage status, until Beth went to the home the violin always stayed close to her. Now as the  entrusted  keeper of this beautiful antique instrument, she had asked him to deliver the violin   and her hearts desire was his.

Their flat in New Haven being old and drafty Beth could no longer take the cold or play here as the arthritis had crippled her body, she could not walk nor hold the bow as well when it was  cold, she had also been diagnosed with that damn mental disease the big “A”.  She had moved to the facility for as her mental ability deteriorating rapidly, it didn’t look good for her coming home this time around.
Today there was a Christmas program at the home, Beth wanted to  play for her friends as her gift to them this season. She was known  world-wide  yet none at the home knew who she was and she liked it that way, no fuss or bother she insisted.
Beth loved Christmas and loved playing in New York, Rome or London, each year during the season, said it brought her closer  to heaven in those places, although when they went to Jerusalem, she played for hours at the wall weeping over every note she played and though they were many she never tired, the more she played the more crowds gathered to listen and weep with her that is where her music had taken on an ethereal sound she claiming she found her soul and God at that wall.
He  carefully packed the violin and drove the few miles to the home, seeing his love in her wheel chair wrenched his heart each time bringing moisture to his rheumy eyes, the beautiful young vibrant seventeen year old of over half a century ago is the way he would always remember her in his heart, yet his eyes could see the age now, more so with her infirmity. He gave a light tap to the door jamb leading to her room she raised her eyes bestowing that beautiful smile upon him meaning today she recognized him and he rejoiced for her eyes were twinkling…”O, how I have missed you” she said to him. “And I you my love”, they sat in her room and chatted while she brought the violin from its case holding, caressing, plucking strings at a quiet level.
The Christmas Program was to start right after dinner of the traditional American fair with a few dishes from some of the women from Poland, Germany and Russia and one from Greece that made Baklava, Glenn was ecstatic at the feast offered, his canned soup dinners had become boring. The program ran for about an hour when Beth asked the director of activities if she might offer some music. Her request granted she opened the case to gasps and murmurs at the beauty of such an instrument, then as Beth began to play tears flowed at the haunting beauty and the magic of the music.

About lenwilliamscarver

A simple woman of simple means, walking a gravel road on my journey, made stronger by paths taken barefoot, pain endured, and revealed in these writings. Mistakes made some taught a lesson some lessons ignored, now learning to forgive myself.
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