I last connected with my hubby via piano music. A harsh wall note from hateful neighbors ruined that delight. After discovering the truth, my granddaughter made amends, leaving those entitled neighbors confused.

Oh, Thalion, did you adore it today, darling? As my fingers left the ivory piano keys, the final notes of “Clair de Lune” filled my comfortable living room as I asked gently. The framed portrait of Thalion, my late spouse, caught my attention. Throughout our 50-year marriage, his gentle eyes twinkled back at me.

My tabby cat, Cressida, lay lazy by my feet, purring. As I delicately lifted Thalion’s portrait, I scratched behind her ears, feeling the old sorrow in my chest.

I miss you, sweetheart. Five years have passed, yet sometimes it seems like yesterday.

I muttered, “Time for dinner, my love,” kissing the chilly glass. Okay, I’ll play your favorite before bed. ‘Moon River,’ always.”

As I laid the frame down, I nearly heard Thalion’s warm laugh. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as he said, “You spoil me, Elowen.”

I shuffled to the kitchen, stopping to stare at the piano, my faithful friend for 72 years.

“What would I do without you?” Running my palm along its glossy surface, I muttered.

I mumbled, “Goodnight, Thalion,” into the blackness of bed. See you in dreams.”

The following morning, a harsh window rap shocked me as I was listening to Chopin’s “Nocturne in E-flat major”. My fingers fumbled when the music stopped.

A red-faced guy scowled at me through the glass. My new neighbor.

He screamed, “Hey, lady!” muffled. Stop that noise! Your pitiful plinking keeps the neighbors awake!”

I looked at him incredulous. “I’m sorry,” I said, despite a little voice in my brain protesting. None of my neighbors had complained before 11 a.m.

The guy stomped away, shaking me. My refuge seemed polluted when I closed the piano lid.

I closed all the windows before playing the following day. Muffled and limited music, but I thought it would preserve the quiet.

My doorbell rang insistently fifteen minutes into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”. Answering with a sorrowful heart.

Pinched-faced lady scowled at me. “Listen here, old lady,” she blasted. The grave calls, and you’re still hammering on that piano? Stop the noise or I’ll report you to the HOA!”

I just realized she was my new neighbor’s wife then.

It felt like a smack. “I… I closed all windows,” I answered softly.

“Well, not enough!” She snapped, heeling. “Stop making noise with your stupid piano!”

Tears filled my eyes as I leaned against the door. “Oh, Thalion,” I muttered. How should I proceed?

His sweet but forceful voice nearly reached me. You play, Elowen. You play passionately. Do not stop for anyone.”

At the piano, my fingers hovered over the keys, but I couldn’t push down.

Day after day, I tried everything. I pasted cardboard over the windows, played in short spurts, and pondered relocating the piano to the basement to be quieter.

However, nothing satisfied my new neighbors, the Grinches, as I’d called them in my brain.

My heart ached at the prospect of losing my beloved instrument, even by staircases. This piano was an extension of my spirit, a live link to Thalion and our existence together.

While playing the piano that night, I forgot about those annoying neighbors and immersed myself in the music.

I tended my tiny herb garden outdoors the following morning. The sight froze me.

The wall was spray-painted with rude red lettering “SHUT UP!”

Went to my knees and cried. I can’t do this anymore, Thalion.”

First day in decades without touching my piano.

Holding Thalion’s picture, I sat on his recliner at night. My darling, I’m sorry. No longer strong enough to fight.”

The phone’s loud ring interrupted my thoughts. Fumbled for the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Mom? “It’s me,” my son Lysander said warmly. How are you?

I struggled to hold back tears. I’m OK, dear. A peaceful day at home.”

A pause. “Mom, you sound bad. Is everything okay?

I groaned, pondering telling him my problems. Really, it’s nothing. A few difficulties with the new neighbors.

“Issues? Kind of issues?

I shared everything that happened, including complaints, threats, and damage.

I don’t know what to do, honey. I feel lost.”

Oh, Mom, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have helped.”

I didn’t want to worry you. Your life and troubles are yours.”

You’re never a burden, mom. Never. For years, your music has provided delight to many. Remember those Christmas parties? You performed in school recitals? “You’re a treasure, not a nuisance.”

Listen, I’m calling Seraphina. She’s closer. She may check on you. We’ll work this out together, okay? Lysander ended.

A glimmer of optimism appeared as I hung up the phone. My situation may not have been unique.

Days passed slowly. Unused, my piano gathered dust. I felt deteriorating.

A loud knock awakened me from my depression one evening. When I answered the door, my granddaughter Seraphina was smiling warmly.

Surprise, Nana! She shouted, hugging me tightly.

Her eyes widened in terror as she drew back. “Nana, who damaged your wall?”

Between sobbing, I let out the full thing. Seraphina’s face deepened with each syllable.

“Oh, Nana,” she said, guiding me to the sofa. “How dare they hurt you? Have you reported them?

I didn’t want to fuss. My dear, it’s been very difficult. That piano is all I have of your grandpa.”

Seraphina cried. “I know, Nana. We’ll solve this, promise.”

“How?” In despair, I begged. “They hate my music. They detest me.”

Seraphina reassured me by holding my hands. They can stick their hate up their butts, Nana. Not even they know you. These spoiled brats will understand the consequences of messing with the wrong pianist!”

Seraphina was busy the following day. She called, purchased supplies, and even recruited my longtime neighbors.

“Nana, we’ll teach those Grinches respect.”

Seraphina placed tiny speakers in the boxwood shrubs beneath the Grinches’ windows that evening.

She grinned at me as their vehicle entered the driveway. “Showtime, Nana!”

After the Grinches left, the hidden speakers played gentle piano music, barely audible. Confused, they ran out. Then the music switched to dog barks and automobile sirens.

I laughed as I watched them rush about looking for the noise.

Seraphina smiled triumphantly. “And now, for the grand finale,” she added, hitting a red remote control button.

I heard the strangest fart noises ever. I laughed so hard I cried.

“Seraphina!” I gulped between laughs. “You’re awful!”

Her embrace was tight. “Nobody bothers my Nana. Additionally, a little revenge never hurts.”

I enjoyed seeing the Grinches desperately scour their yard. “Thank you, sweetheart,” I whispered. “For reminding me to defend myself.”

The following morning, a team came at my residence. They started turning my piano room into a modern soundproof studio, surprising me.

“Now you can play whenever you want, Nana,” Seraphina squeezed my hand. “Nobody will tell you to stop again.”

As the workmen finished, I sat at my polished piano. My fingers shook as I touched the keys, yet playing felt like going home.

I closed my eyes and felt Thalion’s presence while “Moon River” played.

“That’s my girl,” he nearly said. Play on, Elowen. Play on.”

Wine-holding Seraphina danced around the room. “You rock, Nana!” she said. “Grandpa would be proud.”

As the final chords faded, I looked at her in tears. “Thanks, honey. You restored my voice.”

“No, Nana,” Seraphina kneeled beside me. “Your voice is always there. I helped you recall it.”

All too soon, Seraphina left. She gave me the remote control-like gadget in the driveway while waiting for her cab.

“Just in case those Grinches act up again,” she smirked. “One press, fart city. I doubt you’ll need it. Nana, the neighbourhood supports you!”

Hugged her fiercely. “I adore you, Seraphina. Thanks for everything.”

I adore you, Nana. Promise to keep playing despite what others say.”

“I promise,” I answered confidently.

My phone buzzed as the cab drove away. My son texted, “How are you doing, Mom? Seraphina revealed everything. So proud of you. I love you.”

Smiled, tears in my eyes, I replied back: “I’m doing better than in weeks. Thanks for supporting me. I love you too.”

Turning back to my home, I thought I saw Thalion with arms outstretched, inviting me to play the piano.

I brushed away a happy tear and entered, shutting the door. The piano was waiting, and I would play this time.

I felt entire again as I touched the keys. My house and heart were filled with music. Something told me Thalion was listening, laughing, and dancing.

“This one’s for you, my love,” I muttered, lost in our favorite song. “And for our family, who never abandoned me!”

Airborne “Moon River” notes. I felt stronger than ever playing with the affection of people I loved home and abroad.