The music I played on my piano was my last link to my late husband. But cruel neighbors shattered that joy with a hurtful message on my wall. When my granddaughter found out, she made things right, leaving those entitled neighbors scratching their heads.
“Oh, Jerry, did you love it today, darling?” I asked softly, the last notes of “Clair de Lune” filling my cozy living room as my fingers lifted from the ivory piano keys. My eyes fixed on the framed photo of my late husband, Jerry. His kind eyes seemed to twinkle back at me, just as they had for over fifty years of our marriage…
Willie, my tabby cat, stretched lazily near my feet, purring contentedly. I reached down to scratch behind his ears, feeling the familiar ache in my chest as I carefully lifted Jerry’s photo.
“I miss you so much, darling. It’s been five years, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like yesterday.”
Pressing a gentle kiss to the cool glass, I whispered, “Time for dinner, my love. I’ll play your favorite before bed, okay? ‘Moon River,’ just like always.”
As I set the frame back down, I could almost hear Jerry’s warm chuckle. “You spoil me, Bessie,” he’d say, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shuffled towards the kitchen, pausing to look back at the piano, my constant companion these past 72 years.
“What would I do without you?” I murmured, running my hand along its polished surface.
That night, as I lay in bed, I whispered into the darkness, “Goodnight, Jerry. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
The next morning, I was lost in Chopin’s “Nocturne in E-flat major” when a sharp rap on my window startled me. My fingers stumbled, the music cutting off abruptly.
A red-faced man glared at me through the glass. He was my new neighbor.
“Hey, lady!” he shouted, his voice muffled. “Cut out that racket! You’re keeping the whole neighborhood awake with your pathetic plinking!”
I stared at him, shocked. “I… I’m so sorry,” I stammered, even as a small voice in my head protested. It was barely 11 a.m., and none of my other neighbors had ever complained before.
The man stomped away, leaving me trembling. I closed the lid of the piano, my sanctuary suddenly feeling tainted.
The next day, I closed all the windows before sitting down to play. The music felt muffled and constrained, but I hoped it would keep the peace.
I was barely ten minutes into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” when my doorbell rang insistently. With a heavy heart, I answered it.
A woman with pinched features glared at me. “Listen here, old lady,” she spat. “The grave’s calling, and you’re still banging on that piano? Cut the noise, or I’ll report you to the HOA!”
It was only then that I understood she was my new neighbor’s wife.
I felt like I’d been slapped. “I… I closed all the windows,” I said weakly.
“Well, it’s not enough!” she snapped, turning on her heel. “Quit making noise with your stupid piano!”
I slumped against the door frame, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh, Jerry,” I whispered. “What do I do?”
I could almost hear his voice, gentle but firm. “You play, Bessie. You play your heart out. Don’t stop… for anyone.”
But as I sat at the piano, my fingers hovering over the keys, I couldn’t bring myself to press down.
Days passed, and I tried everything. I taped cardboard over the windows, played only in short bursts, even considered moving the piano to the basement where it might not be heard.
But nothing seemed to satisfy my new neighbors, the Grinches, as I’d started calling them in my head.
The thought of being separated from my cherished instrument, even by a flight of stairs, made my heart ache. This piano wasn’t just an object; it was an extension of my soul, a living connection to Jerry and our life together.
Forgetting about those bothersome neighbors for a moment, I lost myself in the music as I played the piano that night.
The next morning, I stepped outside to tend to my small herb garden. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold.
The cruel words “SHUT UP!” were spray-painted across the wall in angry red letters.
I sank to my knees and wept. “Jerry, I can’t do this anymore.”
That day, for the first time in decades, I didn’t touch my piano.
As night fell, I sat in Jerry’s armchair, clutching his photo. “I’m so sorry, my love. I just don’t have the strength to fight anymore.”
The shrill ring of the telephone startled me from my thoughts. I fumbled for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Mom? It’s me,” my son Jacob’s warm voice filled the line. “How are you doing?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Oh, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a quiet day at home.”
There was a pause. “Mom, you don’t sound fine. Is everything alright?”
I sighed, debating whether to burden him with my troubles. “It’s nothing, really. Just… some issues with the new neighbors.”
“Issues? What kind of issues?”
I found myself spilling everything… the complaints, the threats, the vandalism.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, honey. I feel so… lost.”
“Oh, Mom, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have helped.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. You have your own life, your own problems.”
“Mom, you’re never a burden. Never. Your music has brought joy to so many people over the years. Remember all those Christmas parties? The school recitals you played for? You’re not a nuisance… you’re a treasure.”
“Listen, I’m going to call Melissa. She’s closer. Maybe she can come check on you. And we’ll figure this out together, okay?” Jacob finished.
As I hung up the phone, I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this after all.
Days crawled by. My piano sat untouched, gathering dust. I felt like a part of me was withering away.
One evening, a loud knock startled me from my melancholy. I opened the door to find my granddaughter Melissa standing there, her face glowing with a warm smile.
“Surprise, Nana!” she exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug.
As she pulled back, her eyes widened in horror. “Nana, who did this to your wall?”
I burst into tears, the whole story spilling out between sobs. Melissa’s expression darkened with each word.
ROBIN WILLIAMS’ SAN FRANCISCO MANSION: WHERE HIS SON TIED THE KNOT ON THE LATE ACTOR’S BIRTHDAY
Robin Williams passed away in 2014, leaving behind his children: Zelda, Zachary, and Cody. Robin and his ex-wife, Marsha Williams, raised their kids in their San Francisco home.
In 2019, on what would have been Robin’s 73rd birthday, his youngest son honored him by getting married on that special day.
Robin Williams was a beloved actor known for his incredible comedic talent. He starred in popular family films like “Aladdin,” “Jumanji,” “Happy Feet,” and “Night at the Museum.”
Robin died by suicide on August 11, 2014, at his home in Tiburon, California. He was born on July 21, 1951. At the time of his death, he was single and had been married three times. His children were Zelda (34), Zachary (41), and Cody (32).
Robin Williams married his first wife, Valerie Velardi, in 1978. They had a son, Zachary Williams, together. The couple divorced in 1988.
Robin then married Marsha Garces in April 1989. They had two children together: Zelda and Cody Williams.
In 2008, Marsha Garces filed for divorce from Robin Williams. She said they had irreconcilable differences. Marsha requested joint legal custody of their kids, with Robin having visitation rights and paying spousal support. She also asked the court to divide their property after figuring out all their assets.
During their marriage, Marsha and Robin Williams worked together on films like “Jakob the Liar,” “Patch Adams,” and “Mrs. Doubtfire.” After their divorce, Robin married Susan Schneider in 2011, but they divorced in 2014 and did not have any children together.
Robin and Marsha raised their kids, Zelda and Cody, in their San Francisco home, which was at the corner of Sea Cliff Avenue and El Camino Del Mar.
The beautiful San Francisco mansion, which Robin Williams and Marsha Garces renovated in the 1990s, is a large 10,600-square-foot property. Built in 1926, it has more than 20 rooms, including six bedrooms, five full bathrooms, and three half bathrooms.
The home offers stunning views of the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco Bay, Marin Headland, and the Pacific Ocean. It was listed for sale at $25 million in October 2023.
Steven Mavromihalis, who is handling the sale, mentioned that Robin and Marsha expanded the house while keeping the original, valuable materials from when it was built in 1926. They also added a movie theater and a grand foyer, which is a central and impressive part of the home leading to its elegant public spaces.
The outside of the property features stunning lawns, bushes, gardens, flowering plants, mature trees, and hedges that surround the entire estate. It includes several sitting areas with clear, open views, making it an ideal space for entertaining guests.
The home includes a four-car garage with both side-by-side and tandem parking options. Inside, the living room is spacious with wooden beams on the ceiling, a wood-burning fireplace, and a French door that opens to the terrace.
The house features a spectacular eat-in kitchen with plenty of counter space, triple sinks, and custom cabinets made from high-quality materials. Next to the kitchen is a butler’s pantry. There’s also a media entertainment room with a half bath that opens to the east lawn and an outdoor dining patio.
The primary suite is designed for peace and tranquility, offering views of the Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge. It includes a spacious bath with a soaking tub and a separate walk-in shower. The suite also features a large dressing room and closet. On the upper level, you’ll find four bedrooms, two full bathrooms, and a home office.
The home includes several hidden safe rooms and a large, ventilated walk-in vault. On the garden level, you’ll find a sauna, a one-bedroom guest apartment, and a fitness center with a full bath. This level also features a wine cellar, a pantry, and plenty of storage closets.
Marsha shared her experience of living in the mansion with Robin. She mentioned that Robin enjoyed shopping for art, and since their home was so large, they bought modern and unique pieces to decorate it. Marsha mixed new, old, historic, and handmade items to create a beautiful and eclectic look for the house.
Robin had a love for toys, so their home was filled with various toy collections. Additionally, some items in the house were particularly special because Marsha and Robin would give each other art pieces as gifts on special occasions like birthdays.
In 2019, Robin Williams’ youngest son paid tribute to his father by getting married at the same San Francisco mansion where Robin and Marsha had raised him.
Robin Williams was very proud of his kids, but he didn’t think of himself as a perfect father. He saw himself as a dad who was always learning and loving his children.
Zachary, his oldest son, graduated from New York University with a degree in rhetoric and followed his dreams to become an actor and director. Zelda, his daughter, made a name for herself in horror movies. Robin described his youngest son, Cody, as “kind but brilliant” and also as an actor.
Robin’s children continue to make him proud, even though he is no longer here. They have each made their own way in the entertainment world as actors and directors. They also make an effort to honor and remember their dad on their special occasions.
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