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Robert had been coming here.

For years.

Learning to play the piano.

The Journal That Explained Everything

Beside the recordings lay a worn leather notebook.

I opened it carefully.

The first entry was dated twenty-five years earlier.

“Today Daisy mentioned her old piano. She said she once dreamed of being a pianist. She laughed when she said it, but I saw the sadness.”

I remembered that moment.

I had found my old sheet music while cleaning a closet and joked about the dream I once had before life became busy with children and responsibilities.

I thought the moment had passed.

But Robert hadn’t forgotten.

Another entry read:

“I signed up for piano lessons today. I am by far the oldest student in the room.”

I laughed through tears.

That sounded exactly like him.

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