The universe is strange...
I suddenly thought of my piano teacher... from when I was a teenager (early to mid 90s). She was an eccentric spinster who lived up the road from us. I used to have two half hour lessons per week but they never finished after half an hour - I generally didn't go home for one to two hours. We talked more than played. I don't even recall what we talked about. As far as I could tell, she had no family. Just her and her cat. Her home was filled with old, worn out, eclectic furniture. And her music room housed piles and piles of old, old, music books. She used to do Scottish Country Dancing. Though she was a rather large lady and at times wasn't the most agile. As I got older, she confided in me that she had suffered from mental illness and had spent time as a patient in mental hospitals. I remember noticing more of her quirks after that. Had I become more aware because of this new information? Or had she disclosed the information because she was relapsing? I noticed poor body odor from her that I hadn't noticed previously over the years. Not long after, I finished high school and stopped having piano lessons. I went to university, got married, and moved away. I never saw her again. Then after my father died, I received a sympathy card from her in the post in which she said she often thought of me. She must have read his obituary in the newspaper and then found me. It was such a nice gesture. And to think I had somehow touched her life to the point where she still thought of me. I was going to call her and make a time to visit. Once I got through the grief. And I never did. Over the years I occasionally thought of her. When MiniMe was born I again wanted to contact her, but never did. And then I forgot about her.
Until this morning. For some reason, I thought of her this morning.
And just discovered that she passed away a week ago.
Marjorie Sheat
22 February 1935 - 20 June 2021 (86 years old)
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