represents my failings. At age 9 I stopped lessons, not wanting to practice. At age 16 I was sorry, but it was too late for my fingers to properly feel a Bach fugue.
Later, when my father had money, he bought a Cadillac. It mostly sat in the garage.
I bought a Steinway. And now play the Fugue in D Minor lovingly, but not well. When I look at my piano I see the years of lost training I can’t get back.
I expect my Father also saw his Cadillac as a loss. It meant he had arrived but had no place to go.