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.
Janet Jackson’s boy has outgrown his baby years.
Eissa, the seven-year-old son of Janet Jackson, is beginning to display his musical abilities, suggesting he may be following in the footsteps of his famous mother.
Here’s a closer look into the young boy’s life:
As the youngest of ten Jackson siblings, Eissa is a descendant of a musical legacy. Janet, now 57, began her career on the variety show The Jacksons, which showcased her eight siblings. Tragically, her twin brother Brandon died at birth in 1957, leaving Janet and her siblings to navigate the world of music together.
Janet’s brothers—Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Jermaine, and Michael—rose to fame as the Jackson 5 after signing with Motown Records in 1968, while her sisters Rebbie and LaToya also forged their paths in the music industry.
Path to Fame
After the family show ended in 1977, 10-year-old Janet landed a leading role in the hit TV series Good Times, followed by parts in Diff’rent Strokes and Fame. However, it was her music that propelled her to fame. Known for hits like “Together Again,” “That’s the Way Love Goes,” “Nasty,” and “Love Will Never Do (Without You),” Janet has earned numerous accolades and has several multi-platinum albums, including Control, Rhythm Nation 1814, and Janet. Her 1982 debut album, Janet Jackson, marked the beginning of her success, but it was her third album, Control (1986), that established her as a major artist in her own right, separate from her brother Michael Jackson, the “King of Pop.” Control earned her three Grammy nominations and nine American Music Award nominations, winning two.
Eissa Jackson Today
Born on January 3, 2017, Eissa Al Mana is inheriting the musical gifts of his mother, who was 50 at the time of his birth with then-husband Wissam Al Mana. Although the challenges of giving birth at that age were daunting, Janet’s delivery was healthy and without complications.
“Janet Jackson and husband Wissam Al Mana are overjoyed with the arrival of their son Eissa Al Mana. Janet had a smooth delivery and is resting comfortably,” a representative stated.
However, just three months after Eissa’s birth, the couple ended their five-year marriage, marking Janet’s third divorce.
According to her brother Randy, Janet faced “verbal abuse” from Al Mana and felt “trapped in her own home.” Randy mentioned, “Enough is enough. There’s a lot of pain. Janet’s been through a lot with her divorce… It was quite an abusive situation that escalated over time.”
In June 2018, Janet called the police for a welfare check while Eissa was with his father, fearing he might be exposed to drugs. Fortunately, Eissa was found safe, and the situation was clarified as a misunderstanding. Neither Janet nor Wissam has commented on the incident.
After the separation, the “When I Think of You” singer expressed her commitment to being an active mother. “Being a working mom is tough. I don’t have a nanny. I handle everything myself. If my mother managed with nine kids, I can too,” Janet reflected, referring to their matriarch, Katherine, who turned 93 in May.
First Photo of Eissa
Janet adeptly juggles her demanding career and motherhood. “I’m in a wonderful place,” she shared. “I have a beautiful son.”
Her friends even call her Superwoman, though Janet humbly disagrees, crediting her newfound energy to Eissa’s inspiration.
The superstar is protective of her son’s privacy, but occasionally shares glimpses of their life. She posted the first photo of Eissa when he was just 14 weeks old, shortly after her separation from Al Mana. She also shared pictures with Eissa and his classmates enjoying gifts from the show Paw Patrol.
In an Instagram clip, Janet excitedly updates fans about her tour when she is interrupted by Eissa seeking her attention.
During her Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction speech in 2019, Janet fondly acknowledged Eissa. “I want to thank my beautiful son. He wakes me up every morning singing his own melodies. You are my heart and my life, and you’ve shown me what true, unconditional love is. Mama loves you, Eissa.”
While appearing on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon in 2020, she shared that Eissa has a passion for music. “He loves classical music. He’s incredibly talented,” she noted. “On his first day of school, he brought a violin. By the third day, he asked to take a cello. I told him we didn’t have a cello, but he insisted I should turn his violin into one.”
Despite Eissa’s evident musical potential, Janet has stated she wouldn’t pressure her children into the entertainment industry unless it was their genuine desire. “They need to understand the challenges they would face,” she explained.
Above all, Janet feels immensely grateful for the love of her son. Eissa is currently being raised in London, where Janet shares parenting responsibilities with her ex-husband.
“Eissa has shown me that love can go deeper than you ever thought possible. It’s limitless,” Janet expressed. “Having been raised in showbiz, where self-interest often prevails, I’m fortunate to prioritize someone else’s welfare above all else.”
Leave a Reply