My grandmother always told me that music will always find you. Either in the soft chirp of birds, the serene ocean waves in the night, or the laughter of friends enjoying each other’s company. Her words made me listen closely for the hidden notes, rhythms, and time signatures in every moment. Even when I couldn’t find anything, my grandmother came to mind instead.

Even more so when she died.

During her funeral, I needed to separate myself from the sadness. I took off my white sandals and ran down the steep slopes of the dunes. Warm sand flowed between my toes. The oceans chorus comforted me. As I tumble further and further down, I see something large and white in the distance.

It was a piano. My grandmother’s piano. The one she had promised me for when I turned eighteen. A For Sale sign was placed on its plush seat.

Did grandpa do this?

I moved the sign and take my seat. My fingers pressed against the white keys, then the black ones inbetween. Their notes played correctly, without need of tuning. As they did, the wind carried hints of sea salt to my nostrils. The force of nature wound through my fingers, urging me to play more.

And so I did.

As my hands flew across the piano, the waves next to me grew higher. The white foam crashed against the rocks, cheering me on, pushing me forward to the end. By the time I finished, the waves towered over me.

“Gwen,” my mother called. “Gwen, get out of there!”

I barreled across the sand, my bones heavy as lead. Laboriously, I climbed up the dunes, slipping through the sand with each step.

“Oh, Gwen!” My mother took me into her arms once I reached the top. “Never run off like that again, please!”

“I’m sorry,” My heart rate leveled, realizing I am no longer in danger. I looked back to see the ocean swallowing the piano whole. A cry of anguish left me. My gift from grandma sacrificed to the waters.

Noticing my despair, my mother said, “It’s okay. I know you miss her, but she’ll always be watching from above.”

I don’t want to believe her. I can’t after she promised me my grandmother’s cancer would get better.

The delicate melody of piano keys reaching out to me every night proved me otherwise.