Day #258 Writing Through COVID-19: Reflections on the Accordion

Yesterday I opened an unmarked envelope to find an accordion mask, a surprise from my sister! 

Wearing it was a highlight today.

Chloe, a student in my Intro to Journalism class, turned 16 today. I'm pretty sure getting her driver's license was her #1 moment, but I hope my squeezebox rendition of "Happy Birthday" makes it into her top 20.
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I play "Happy Birthday" on all my students' birthdays. I drape gold Birthday beads around their necks. 

Everyone should hear "Happy Birthday" on the accordion in their honor at least once in their lifetime. When I played for one of my seniors last week, we acknowledged this was the fourth time I've played for her in as many years.   
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My big red accordion resides at my mother-in-law's house where we practice about five times a week. Tonight we mushed our way through Christmas carols. On a regular year, we'd be preparing old-timey duets to play at care centers. 

This year we are playing only for ourselves, masked and distanced across the room. It's hard to keep time when we are not side-by-side. As with so many matters, our standards for musicality have slipped precipitously during COVID.
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I stash my tiny 8-bass accordion by the file cabinet in Room #408. I bought the shiny Ballerini on eBay 20 years ago. My purchase was driven by a decades-old fascination with the instrument based on fuzzy memories of Linda, our 16-year-old foster sister who lived with us when I was eight. 

Accordion optimism on a windy morning

Enough.
Be well.
Write.

Allison