Blog Post #11: Tim's Melodica Memory

This post is dedicated to my late friend Tim, who passed away yesterday. Tim must have been in his 70s, and I knew him because he was a regular member of the church I played piano for in high school. Each Sunday, he’d walk into the sanctuary with a dance step or jazz hands, and make his way over to the piano to say hello to me. He’d always ask how my family was doing. As an angsty high school senior, having a cross-generational friendship in Tim always reminded me not to take life too seriously. 

Tim owned a 32-key melodica, which is an instrument resembling a small piano that only makes sound when you blow through a tube. Occasionally, we would shock the congregation with a piano-melodica duet. I say shock because to my ears, the sound of a melodica is somewhere between that of an accordion and a bagpipe. I’d give Tim the melody line, in simple notation for him to read, and I’d play the harmony underneath. The first time we performed the postlude together, every head looked up and towards the corner where we sat. After each performance, he would always fret about a missed note here or there, but knew the congregation was happy to see him joining me in making music. 

When I heard the news of his passing this morning, my tears flowed endlessly. I walked to my school’s chapel and sat, journaling, while the rain fell on the pond outside. There wasn’t anyone else in the building. When I finished writing, I put on headphones and listened to “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” from Toy Story. While I was listening, a small spider lowered itself to the ground by its web. At first I was a little worried the spider would come near me, and then I was overcome with a sensation that the spider was Tim playing his jokes from up above. I realized that Tim wouldn’t want the community to mope, he’d want us to dance and celebrate the beautiful life he lived. Wherever Tim is now, I know he is still dancing, smiling, snacking on the post-service refreshments, playing melodica, and chatting with anyone and everyone. Tim lives on as long as we remember him, so I will keep making my music, even if I’m the only one who can still hear the sound of his melodica soaring over my piano notes.