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The Piano

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Years have gone by since I had my piano recital at school when I was in ninth grade. It’s really not my field, but it was the only sweet escape from my music subject, which is too boring to handle (frankly speaking). Anyhow, I felt happy to do the recital for one behemoth reason: my father would be there to see me play and to me it was the most significant day of my life.


The back story is, often times our ideas and opinions would always clash. No matter what it is, we would end up arguing and both our temperatures boiling. (On the brighter side, it is a great proof that I am his daughter.) But I just realized that these things happen because of my lunatic pride. I never wanted to be corrected and I wanted things my way. I’ve learned my lesson already that’s why I wanted to patch things up.


Before the program formally started, my father affirmed that he was on his way. Like a little child, I was there eagerly waiting for him to arrive. Then it was my turn to play the piano. (Still waiting for him to catch up.) The last notes of my piece were about to finish, still no signs of him. Right after I finished playing my piece, I hurriedly went out of the auditorium with a grimace on my face.


Tears were gushing like a rivulet. I didn’t care whether someone would see my crying. I was too depressed because I thought it was the only chance I had to make him proud of me and sadly he did not show up. Wish I had a time machine so I could turn back the time so he’d see me play. But it could never happen. It was over, that was my only chance.


I was puzzled why he was not able to make it. Then he called up and told me that he had some problems with the car’s engine. He picked me up after an hour. The only sound I could hear when I entered the car was pure silence. I did not want him to see me crying that day, but it was too obvious because of my rubicund cheeks and nose. Then I started shrilling like a cow. I can still remember the very words I said that day. “I just wanted you to be proud of me but you were not there.” He hugged me so tight and told me how much he loves me. All of my frustrations and heavy-heartedness flew away like rockets and disappeared.


Since that day up to this very moment, I’ve become a better person because of him. The piano, which I took for granted, was literally the instrument that made me closer to my father. He will always have his own ways of showing me his love.


His imperfections gave me the perfect reason to love him more.


The person I am right now and the achievements I have attained in my life is a reflection of how my father patiently and lovingly molded me.

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