Loose Strings

"Hello?"

"Ms. Makkonen, this is Dr. Kaurismakki."

"Yes, Doctor, I've been expecting your call."

"Ms. Makkonen, I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news."

"Is it Eiro?"

"Mr. Lahti has been unconscious on arrival. We lost him."

"Linda, honey, can I come in?"

"Just a second... OK, Mom. Go ahead."

"Was that Dr. Kaurismakki?"

"Yeah... Eiro didn't make it."

"Mom, can you give away my violin? I'm not going to play anymore."

"What?! But you're so good! Your father and I are proud of you. It'd break our hearts if---"

"Mom, my heart is broken, now. Playing the violin was something I liked, but with Eiro---he made me love the way the notes roll off the bow, the way the violin's frame feels in my hands. Now, that case over there is nothing but a reminder of pain, of a love I will never feel again."

"But you will! Besides, Eiro would want you to keep playing."

"Mom, I know you're trying to console me."

"Sleep on it. Just don't think about anything right now."

"Then, we'd have to plan the---"

"I know, honey. Your dad and I will take care of everything. I'm calling Eiro's parents first thing tomorrow."

"Kirsi, honey, did you tell Linda that--- Oh, you heard. What was Eiro thinking, driving under such weather conditions?"

"Dad, I want to sell my violin."

"Why?"

"Because Eiro made me fall in love with it, and now he's not here."

"We know you loved him, sweetheart. We haven't seen you as happy as you had been these past eight months."

"He is with you. In the photos, in the sheet music, for example."

"Dad..."

"Sorry, I'm terrible at sentiments. At least I don't write sympathy cards for a living."

"Yeah, it's not anybody's dream job, anyway."

"So don't give up on yours, Linda. What about the conservatory?"

"It's the last thing on my mind, now."

"OK, you can think about applying next year."

"I'm going to apply to the conservatory after high school."

"Eiro, that's amazing! You deserve to get in."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?"

"Because nobody plays the violin quite like you."

"Itzhak Perlman is pretty good, I hear."

"OK, nobody plays like you or Perlman."

"Don't forget Paganini."

"He was notoriously humble... Just kidding. From what I read, the guy was anything but."

"I am, though. My playing is... OK, at best."

"Self-deprecation won't get you too far, Eiro."

"It got me far enough to be with you. Cute, studious, humble. That's your type, am I right?"

"Maybe. But what sealed the deal was when you played Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat."

"You mean when I butchered it?"

"You didn't butcher it. You played it like you understood heartbreak."

"I was thinking about my grandmother. She passed away that week."

"I know. That's what made it so beautiful. You weren't just playing notes, you were playing emotion."

"And that's when you knew you liked me?"

"That's when I knew I could fall in love with you."

"Could?"

"Would. Did. Am."

"Present tense?"

"Very present tense."

"Good, because I was thinking... if we both get into conservatory..."

"When we both get into conservatory."

"OK, when we both get in... maybe we could find a place together. Near campus."

"Are you asking me to move in with you, Eiro Lahti?"

"I'm asking if you'd want to wake up to piano scales every morning."

"Only if you don't mind violin arpeggios before coffee."

"I think I could get used to that."

"We could practice together every day."

"And fight about whose turn it is to do dishes."

"And fall asleep to each other's music."

"Sounds perfect."

"Almost too perfect to be real."

"You remember that?"

"How could I forget? It was our first real conversation."

"I was so nervous. My hands were shaking."

"I couldn't tell. You made that piano sing."

"And you made me want to be better. At everything."

"Linda? Honey, are you listening?"

"Sorry, Mom. I was just... remembering."

"What were you remembering?"

"The day Eiro told me he wanted to apply to conservatory too. We talked about studying music together."

"That sounds like a beautiful dream."

"It was. Now it's just... gone."

"Dreams can change, sweetheart. They don't have to disappear."

"But this one has to. I can't do it without him."

"What exactly were you two planning?"

"We were going to live together near campus. Practice every morning, fall asleep to each other's music."

"That sounds lovely, sweetheart."

"We had it all figured out. He'd play piano, I'd play violin. We were going to audition for chamber groups together."

"You can still do those things."

"Dad, you don't understand. It wasn't just about the music. It was about doing it together."

"I know it hurts now, but—"

"No, you don't know. You and Mom met in college, got married, had me. Your story had a happy ending."

"Linda..."

"Mine doesn't. Mine ends with a phone call and a violin I can't bear to look at."

"It doesn't have to end there."

"What's the point of conservatory if the person I was going to share it with is gone?"

"Because you're still here. Your talent is still here."

"My talent was better with him. We made each other better."

"Then honor that. Play the way he taught you to play."

"I can't. Every time I pick up my bow, I'll be waiting for him to come in on the piano."

"Maybe that's okay. Maybe that's how you keep him with you."

"Mom, I just want the pain to stop."

"I know, honey. But running away from music won't make it stop."

"How do you know?"

"Because the music is where your best memories of him live."

"What if I don't want to remember right now?"

"Then don't. But don't make permanent decisions based on temporary pain."

"This doesn't feel temporary."

"Grief never does, sweetheart. When my father died, I thought I'd never laugh again."

"But you did."

"Eventually. And you will too."

"Did you want to laugh again?"

"Not at first. It felt like betraying his memory."

"That's exactly how I feel about playing. Like I'd be betraying Eiro by moving on."

"Or maybe you'd be betraying him by giving up."

"Kirsi, let her breathe. She doesn't need to decide anything tonight."

"You're right. I'm sorry, Linda. I just... I remember how your face lit up when you played."

"That was because of him."

"No, honey. That was because of you. Eiro just helped you see it."

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Who's that?"

"I think it's the front door. I'll get it."

"Mrs. Makkonen? I'm Aino, Eiro's mother."

"Oh, Aino. Please, come in. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. I know it's late, but I couldn't sleep. Is Linda awake?"

"She's upstairs with her father. Linda! Mrs. Lahti is here."

"I'll be right down."

"Mrs. Lahti... I'm so sorry."

"Oh, sweetheart. Come here."

"I should have stopped him from driving. The weather was so bad."

"Linda, no. Don't do that to yourself."

"If I hadn't asked him to pick up my sheet music from school..."

"Stop. Eiro made his own choice to drive. This is not your fault."

"But if I had gone with him..."

"Then we might have lost you both. Is that what you think Eiro would have wanted?"

"No."

"He loved you so much, Linda. He talked about you constantly."

"He did?"

"Every time he came home from seeing you, he'd sit at our piano and play. Happy songs, love songs. He said you made him want to play music that matched how he felt inside."

"He never told me that."

"He was shy about his feelings. But not about his music. When he played after seeing you, the whole house felt lighter."

"Mrs. Lahti, I don't think I can play anymore."

"I understand. But can I tell you something?"

"Okay."

"Eiro left something for you. He was planning to give it to you this weekend."

"What is it?"

"A piece he composed. He wrote it on the piano, but he arranged it for violin and piano. He wanted to surprise you."

"He... he wrote me a song?"

"He called it 'Linda's Melody.' He said it captured the way you played – free and passionate, but also careful and precise."

"Where is it?"

"It's in my car. Would you like to see it?"

"I... I don't know."

"You don't have to decide now. But I think he'd want you to have it."

"Mrs. Lahti, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Are you going to keep playing? Your piano?"

"I don't know yet. Some days I sit down to play and I can only think of him. Other days, I avoid the piano completely."

"So you understand."

"I do. But Linda, I also know that when I do play, I feel closest to him. It's like he's right there in the room with me."

"That's what scares me. I don't want to feel like he's there when he's not."

"I know. But maybe someday, that feeling will comfort you instead of hurt you."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can't be. Grief doesn't come with guarantees. But love... love finds a way to survive, even when the person is gone."

"Mrs. Makkonen, would it be all right if I brought the sheet music in? Linda doesn't have to look at it tonight, but I'd like her to have it."

"Of course. Linda, would that be okay with you?"

"Yes. I think so."

"I'll be right back."

"Linda, you don't have to do anything with that music."

"I know, Dad."

"But if you ever want to see what he wrote..."

"I'll think about it."

"Here it is. He spent weeks on this. He kept playing it over and over, making little changes."

"Can I... can I just hold it?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

"He wrote my name at the top. And look... 'For the girl who taught me that music is love made audible.'"

"Oh, honey."

"There's more. 'Play this when you want to remember that you are extraordinary, even when you can't see it yourself.'"

"He really loved you."

"Mrs. Lahti, what do you think he'd want me to do?"

"I think he'd want you to be happy. However that looks for you."

"But would he want me to keep playing?"

"Linda, I think Eiro would want you to follow your heart. If that means taking a break from music, he'd understand. If that means playing through the pain, he'd cheer you on."

"I just miss him so much."

"We all do. But missing him means he mattered. Missing him means we loved him well."

"Will it always hurt this much?"

"No, sweetheart. It will always hurt, but not this much. The pain will become softer, more like an ache than a sharp cut."

"How long does that take?"

"There's no timeline for grief. Be patient with yourself."

"I keep thinking about our last conversation. We were talking about graduation, about conservatory applications. He was so excited."

"What did he say?"

"He said he couldn't wait to see what kind of music we'd make together. Not just playing together, but... the life we'd build."

"That sounds beautiful."

"It was supposed to be. Now I don't know what my life is supposed to look like."

"You have time to figure that out."

"Do I? The conservatory deadline is in three months."

"Linda, you don't have to decide about conservatory tonight."

"But I have to decide about the violin. I can't keep looking at it every day, remembering."

"What if you put it away for a while? You don't have to give it away permanently."

"Maybe that's a good idea."

"I could store it at our house, if you'd like. When you're ready, if you're ever ready, it would be there waiting."

"Would you do that?"

"Of course. Eiro would have liked that, I think. Knowing your violin was safe, waiting for you."

"Okay. Yes. Let's do that."

"And the sheet music? The piece he wrote?"

"I'll keep that. Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to read it."

"There's no rush, sweetheart. No rush at all."