The Piano Man

There’s a well-known little diner down in my hometown, right by the railroad tracks. It has its unique character and the owners carry a precious backstory. The servers are family and they make you feel like you are part of theirs. Whether it’s your first time in or your 100th, you are welcomed with open arms and a genuine smile.

Some customers respond heartily while others attempt to be a bit more dismissive. The charm nonetheless has its effect.

And then there’s the infamous piano man…

Dressed nondescriptly, sweetly disheveled, he takes his place at the piano around lunchtime. His hands find the keys to conjure forth melodies from long ago to fill the dining room..

Then came the day I walked in alone. I sought an out of the way place and found a table behind the piano. He began to play, and then paused to turn around to share with me – his story.

This man, long retired, uses his gift whenever he can, here and in nursing homes. He’s not out much after dark but he truly brightens the atmosphere.

As I ate and listened, I learned of his early days and his love of music. I learned of how he was discouraged by others when he sought to pursue this dream. He talked of a girlfriend and learning new-fangled music like Sinatra.

He was a delight and his story – an inspiration.

Pursue, hone and use your gift; don’t stop playing. Tell your story. You never know who might be blessed.

Daresay, awakened to re-engage in life with fresh gusto.