My hands delicately touched the ivory keys. In reverent solace, I took a deep breath as I sat in the darkness of this unfamiliar house. Slowly, I began to let my fingers flow with the emotions I was feeling. It had been months since I had sat at a piano. But this piano was nothing like the one I had known before: this piano was a perfectly tuned Baby Grand, worth thousands of dollars. The piano I had know - my piano - was an old out of tune spinet that I had purchased at a yard sale for $50. And in that moment, as my fingers danced across the meticulously cared for ivory, I realized how deeply I missed my old out-of-tune friend. It was a feeling that came unexpectedly, this grief. It startled me. So, I quickly stuffed it down inside of myself and shook it off as nonsensical. But as warm tears began streaming down my cheeks while I played this Grand, I soon realized that this was an emotion I could no longer deny: I was grieving the loss of my piano. The loss of my piano had come a