Saying goodbye can be tough, especially when my musical roots evolved from my great-grandfather's piano.

Since I was four years old, my family has held onto this piano. It was passed down to me at a young age, and now it's time to say farewell. Unfortunately, there's just no space for it anywhere at my parents' house and no room for me to take it, either.

Sadly, I knew this day would come.

Just the other day I received a phone call with the news that the piano was going to be sold, and quite frankly, I've had mixed emotions about it. On one hand, I understand completely why it can't be kept, but on the other hand, I feel as though I'm losing a part of myself.

Selflessly, I would much rather see it played by the tiny fingers of a young child, learning to accept music into their life, so I made a call to a good friend of mine. Long story short, she knows people over at Friends Academy and told me that the students over there could use a piano for the classroom; I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

I called off the Craigslist posting and decided to donate my piano to the school.

Letting go is slightly bittersweet, although it still saddens me. To this day I can still remember the very first song I taught myself at the age of four years old. I sat alone in my Va-Vo's parlor, simultaneously watching An American Tail: Fievel Goes West and clanking the ivory keys to the tune of "Somewhere Out There."

This memory alone still hits me in the feels.

Any tune I heard, whether it be on the radio or the old wood-box TV, I found myself learning quickly and being able to pick up on any key thrown my way.

"You have a gift," my grandmother would constantly tell me. "Grampy would be proud."

Grampy would have most certainly been proud.

The musical talent that has been embedded deep within the strands of my DNA was exerted through the tips of my fingers onto 60 white and black keys. Hoping that someday, the music I once learned and loved on that piano would carry onwards by the hands of others.

It's not every day that I have to say goodbye to something that has had as much meaning as this piano did, but sadly that day has finally come, and I couldn't feel any more humbled. Even if letting go is half the battle, I'll never lose my passion for music.