Symphony of Life

The Symphony of life
By Rachel Galovan

Frame: (the keys of a shining newer piano, being played by the fingers of a small child. She is playing one finger at a time, a simple song….)

Rose Mary-Twink…le  twinkle…..lit…tle …..staaaar…… how….. I ……won….der…..er…..  

Frame: (her hands are now folded in her lap)

Rose Mary- Daddy! I can’t do it! It’s too hard!

Frame: (A father putting his large, gentle, and tired hands on the shoulders of a small girl, about 5 years old, who is pouting on the piano bench. Her hair is short and put into pig tails that curl inward at the ends.)

Father- Rose Mary, I know it may be hard now, but it’ll get easier. And when you are all grown up you’ll be able to play beautiful music.

Rose Mary- I don’t wanna.

Frame: (The father’s large hands on the piano keys. He has perfect placement and it is obvious that he knows what he is doing.)

Father- Let me tell you a story. Do you know who you were named after?

Rose Mary- My mommy.

Father- That’s right and she bought this piano when we got married. Do you know what she did with this piano?

Frame: (Rose Mary shaking her head no, making her pig tails fly out and spin around her face.)

Father- Then I’ll show you.

Frame: (The Father’s hand reaching to the top of a bookshelf and pulling out a three ring binder.)

Frame: (He sets the binder open on the music stand of the piano. There are two pages of music written, while the rest of the binder is full of blank music sheets.)

Rose Mary- What is it?

Father- A symphony. Your mother was writing it on this piano only days before she died. Do you know what a symphony is?
Frame: (Rose Mary shaking her head again.)

Frame: (*Very small frame in front of next frame. *Side view of the father’s face. He is leaning his head back in thought, with a slight sad expression on his face and his mouth open a crack.)

Frame: (A elegant woman with dark long flowing hair. She is wearing a white flowing dress and almost has the air of an angel about her. The text is around her, but not coming from her….maybe in italics rather than bubbles.)

Father- A symphony is a song that can be very long. It is full of sad parts and it is also full of happy parts. A person’s life is like a symphony. The question isn’t how long the symphony is, but how many happy parts it has. A symphony reflects a person’s life if a person’s symphony is full of sadness then their life must not have been full of joy. Your mother hoped that this symphony would be able to bring happiness to those people do didn’t have much in their own lives. For she was very happy. And the happiest moment is when you arrived.

Frame: (Rose Mary looking up and smiling at her father, with one of his hands on the side of her face.)

Rose Mary- Really?

Father- Yes. And do you realize what it means that you have to do with your mother’s name?

Frame: (Rose Mary looking up at her father with a confused looking, shaking her head slightly)

Rose Mary- no…..

Father- It means that you not only have to live up to the name you have, but you need to finish the symphony that your mother started.

Frame: (Rose Mary looks at the piano and the binder intently. Her face is one of consentration as if she is trying to figure out something in that little mind of her’s.)

Frame: (Rose Mary’s fingers picking out the notes of a simple song.)

Rose Mary- Twink…le  twinkle…..lit…tle …..staaaar…

Frame: (A pair of hands playing the same piano, though now it has scuff marks and seems to be aged more. The hands are that of a young woman’s. thin, slender, yet still small. Rose Mary is about 15 or so. These are her hands. Her hand placement isn’t perfect, but it is at least better than it was when she was a little child.)

Rose Mary: ^Humming^…..there was a melody locked deep inside of me,……

Frame: (Her hand using a pencil to mark some notes down on the papers in a three ring binder.)

Father: Rose Mary, come on. We’re going to be late for your residual.

Rose Mary: Just a moment.

Frame: (RM’s hands holding a small framed picture of her mother.)

Rose Mary: I’ll make you proud mom, and I will honor your name.

Frame: (A shot of the room that the piano is in. The picture of Rose Mary’s mother is on the piano and the binder is left open with at least 5 or so pages written on, one of which is half way down the page. Out the window you can see the silhouettes of Rose Mary and her Father walking down the sidewalk toward the car.)

Frame: (Rose Mary sitting in the front seat of the car holding a boeque of flowers. Close up on the flowers. ^seatbelt required^)

Rose Mary: Thank you for the flowers Dad.

Father: You deserve them. You did good tonight. I’m proud of you.

Frame: (Rose Mary smiling sheepishly.)

Rose Mary: I tried my hardest to do as well as mom would have liked me to do.

Frame: (Her father reaching over and giving her arm a little squeeze, or if you can manage it a small hug.)

Father: I know that she’s proud of you too.

Frame: (^Try to somehow show passage of time in a different line between panels or something. ^ Rose Mary’s hands once more playing the piano. Some of the keys are chipped and it is more warn than the last time it was shown. Her hands now have a wrinkle or two nothing too obvious, but still are slender and soft. RM is in her 30’s now.)

Rose Mary: ^humming^ …. ( I don’t care what… try to show humming sounds or something.)

Frame: (Rose Mary’s hand using a pencil to mark some notes down on the papers in a three ring binder. The binder is about half and half of blank pages as well as written on pages.)

^Crying baby^ Rose Mary: Alright sweetie I’m coming.

Frame: (Rose Mary holding a baby in her arms. She looks a lot like her mother that her father envisioned in the first scene. There is a play pen in the back ground as well as the piano. She is wearing a house dress and an apron.)

Rose Mary: Hush little baby don’t say a word….

Frame: (A boy about 10 years old. Crouched behind the couch holding a rubber band gun getting ready to fire.)   

Paul: ready….aim….

Frame: (A slight explosion as the rubber band hits the side of the piano.)

Paul: FIRE!

Frame: (Paul with a worried look on his face.)

^crying baby^
Rose Mary: PAUL WILLSON!!  

Paul: uh oh….

Frame: (Rose Mary holding Paul by the ear with one hand and the crying baby in the other. Rose Mary is MAD and Paul looks worried and is trying to get away.)

Rose Mary: Why did you shoot my piano?!

Paul: I’m sorry mom!

Rose Mary: You didn’t answer my question. That was my Mother’s piano.

Paul: I know….. ouch…it hurts mom

Frame: (Rose Mary’s hand out)

Rose Mary: Give me your gun.

Paul: But mom!

Rose Mary: NOW!

Frame: (Paul placing his gun and the rubber bands into his mom’s waiting hand.)

Rose Mary: Now go up to your room.

Paul: But you said I could play until Dad got home.

Rose Mary: That was before you shot my piano.

Frame: (Paul tromping up the stairs, while muttering under his breath.)

Rose Mary: And I better not hear the TV going or you’ll find yourself in a world of hurt.

Frame: (Rose Mary feeding the baby that is sitting in the high chair.)

Rose Mary: Is that yummy huh?   

David: Honey, I’m home.

Rose Mary: In the kitchen, Dear.

Frame: (David walking into the kitchen with a hand full of flowers fresh from the store. Rose Mary is looking at him from next to the high chair.)

Rose Mary: What are those for?

David: For the most beautiful woman in my life.

Rose Mary: Oh and who is this woman?

David: Well she’s just a lady I know and happen to be married to.

Frame: (The two of them kissing……^wink you know I had to do one in this didn’t ya^)

Frame: (Rose Mary putting the flowers in a vase.)

Rose Mary: Your son shot a rubber band at my piano today.

Frame: (David playing with the baby)

David: High treason to the crown! He must be shot at dawn!!

Rose Mary: DAVID!

Frame: (David holding up his hands as if to protect himself from his wife, who is stepping toward him with her hands on her hips.)

David: Alright, alright…. I’ll go talk to him.   

Rose Mary: Thank you….. and make sure he knows that he has to practice the piano before I’ll feed him.

Frame: (The baby asleep in the high chair.)

Frame: (Rose Mary standing by the piano holding the picture of her mother that is starting to fade and go yellow. In the background and on the piano sits a picture of her young family.)

Rose Mary: I’m doing the best I can mom, but sometimes it is hard to remember to smile. It is a good thing that David loves me other wise I’d really be in trouble.

Frame: (Rose Mary holding the binder close to her heart.)

Rose Mary: Nearly half way done.

Frame: (Rose Mary’s hand placing the binder on the shelf.)     

Frame: (Another passage of time…. Rose Mary’s hands are playing a new piano. She is nearing her 50’s. Her hands are warn, but still active. The piano is shinny and elegant.)  

David: Honey, why don’t you come and join us.

Frame: (Rose Mary looking up at her husband, who is standing next to the piano. The piano has a BIG bow on the top of it. David is dressed in a Tux and a wedding scene is in the background. She is in a dress with a flower pinned to it. They both have gray hairs mixed in with the rest of their dark hair.)

Rose Mary: hu?

David: Come and stand in the line. You are the mother of the groume.

Frame: (Rose Mary looking down smiling.)

Rose Mary: I know. I just had to take a brake. I can’t stand up for a long period of time.

David: Oh so you’re getting old are you?

Frame: (RM glaring up at her husband, who is grinning ear to ear.)

Rose Mary: Do you have a problem with that? Because you’re getting just as old as I am.

David: Is that so?

Rose Mary: At least I’m not foolish like some people.

Frame: (David with his hand on his chin as if he is thinking.)

David: Well I seem to remember a young foolish girl agreeing to be married to a dashing young man. Yes, I do believe that this foolish girl was quite taken by him…. Yes yes indeed.

Frame: (Rose Mary putting her arms around the neck of her husband)

Rose Mary: Oh really, what every happened to those two?

David: I don’t know…they got married, had a few kids and grew old together.

Rose Mary: Sounds about right.   

Frame: (David putting his arm around RM’s waist and leading her back to the line.)

David: Alright then, I’ll have to see if I can get a chair so that this old Lady here doesn’t have to stand up.

Rose Mary: You’re a ham, you know that?

David: And that is why you love me.

Frame: (David and Rose Mary hanging up their coats just inside the door to their home. They are still wearing their clothes from the wedding reception.)

Rose Mary: After such a long day it is good to be home.

David: Yep a happy, but long day indeed. We got rid of one kid, I wonder when the next will go.

Frame: (Rose Mary is shaking her head at her husband as she walks into the living room where the piano is sitting. The piano is showing its age. It’s keys are chipped, the color is fading and it isn’t shinny like the one at the wedding. There are four picture frames sitting on top of the piano. 1- her mother young and beautiful 2- her young family 3- her son and his bride 4-her father, his face old and warn. The binder is also open and sitting on the music stand it is ¾ written in.)  

Rose Mary: Some times I can’t believe you.

David: (from the other room) Me either. Do you want something to drink or do you just want to pretend…..

Frame: (David walking into the room with two glasses and a boatel of cider. Rose Mary is standing at the piano with a picture in her hand.)

David: …..that we were the couple that just got married…. What is it?… was it something I said?

Frame: (Rose Mary turning around with a few tears running down her face and a picture in her hand.)

Rose Mary: *sniff* No… I just wish that Dad was here to see this.

Frame: (David hugging Rose Mary, the cider and glasses on the coffee table.)  

David: It’s alright sweet heart. He was here…I’m sure he saw it. I love you.

Rose Mary:  And I love you.

Frame: (David’s hands cupping Rose Mary’s face and drying her tears.)

David: How about I got upstairs and draw us a bath? We can relax a little and then go to bed, huh?

Rose Mary: That sounds nice.   

Frame: (Large shot of the room, with David headed out and Rose Mary setting the picture down next to the others.)

Frame: ( ^Small shot…maybe over lapping the large one^ Rose Mary’s hands playing the piano.)

Frame: (^Another small one^ Rose Mary’s hand writing a few notes into the binder. It is now about ¾ finished.)    

Frame: (^small one^ Rose Mary putting the binder on the shelf.)

Frame: (Rose Mary heading up the stairs.)  

Frame: (Another time passage…. Rose Mary’s hands are playing the old piano. Her hands are thin, bony, and wrinkled. The piano is chipped everywhere, the keys are yellow, the paint is thin where it isn’t chipped and scratched.)

Frame: (Rose Mary’s old hands writing the last note on the last page in the binder.)

Rose Mary: Done at last.

Frame: ( The pages in the binder turned to the font. The title page says: A Mother’s Song—a Symphony by Rose Mary Wilson. For her mother.)

Frame: (Rose Mary sitting in a rocking chair, near the piano. Her hair is white and she has a small blanket around her shoulders to keep warm.)

Rose Mary: I finished it, Mother. I hope you are proud of the symphony that was my life. I believe over all it was happy. I think that is what you wanted.