Death by Chopin
His heart stopped beating. Overwhelmed by the beauty of a Chopin Nocturne. On his birthday.
That was the family legend, often retold, and guaranteed to show up over any holiday family feasts.
Grandfather had been sitting in his special chair, when suddenly yet gently he appeared to drift off to sleep. Grandma was sitting near him and saw the quiet shift. Also an admirer of this enchanting music, she was the source of the detail regarding which exact piece it was. Nocturne №2 In E Flat Major.
During numerous gatherings in the passing years, after the telling of the episode, the piece would get played on the stereo, and, as if it were a prayer, the kids were expected to sit attentively, and listen respectfully.
Tradition likes to nag, so all the grandchildren have adapted, recapitulating this folklore each in their own rendition. Some of us carry the tune in a playlist on our smartphones, prepared at the telling of this narrative to fill the air with the dazzling grace of this music, which was written about fifty years before Grandfather was born. Here let me play it for you.
Second of thirty-one stories — 500 words or less, written one-per-day during December 2018 — The Hunt & Peck Parables PatchWord Quilt™©.
© AleXander Hirka 2019. All Rights Reserved.