C, G, D, A, F, A7 - they all came back as soon as I picked up the guitar in the shop. Even after all the years that had passed, my fingers remembered exactly where to land on the frets. I strummed with the strings as close as possible to my ear in hopes that I would hear but others would not. Then I caught a smile on E's face as he watched me light up with the joy of someone who had reunited with an old friend, and before we left the store (with a brand new guitar in tow) I was unabashedly belting out You Are My Sunshine.
If I remember right, I started playing guitar when I was about 11 years old on a plastic toy version that belonged to one of my sisters. I taught myself to play few songs by ear. After auditioning my songs, promising that I would play every day, and assuring them that I understood how expensive it was, I persuaded my parents to buy me a real guitar (from Woolco). One of my mom's friends played, and she hesitantly agreed to teach me a few chords. With those few lessons she made such a difference in my life - she gave me the gift of music.
I kept my promise and played nearly every day but, like so much else, I left my guitar behind when I moved to the USA. Only recently have I come to understand how much I missed my old friend(s).
It was E who finally convinced me to start playing again. He even took me to a music store, directed me to the guitars, and told me I should get one. Of course, I refused. Too expensive. Why spend money when I'll never play it? I rattled off a litany of excuses.
This past July, however, E hit upon the right tactic. Fresh out of an education leadership conference, E announced that he wanted to learn guitar, and asked if I would go with him to pick one out. It was the weirdest thing - since E was the one buying the guitar, I didn't have a single excuse. By no means did I want to discourage E from enriching his life and growing creatively.
Hmmm… why for E and not me?
Thanks, dearest E, for encouraging me, nudging me, and, when all else failed, using your psychology major on me.
The other chords are starting to come back now, too. And my fingertips hurt (that’s a good thing – it means I’m practicing!).
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5 comments:
It is a beautiful thing when you can rediscover things from the past that remind you how sweet life can be.
I felt much the same way as you when I started painting and drawing again.
May your new calloused fingers bring you much joy!
I'm thrilled for you. Just the fact that it all came back to you immediately upon picking up a guitar gives me the chills.
Aren't you glad you've been keeping your fingers nimble by bouncing them upon your computer keyboard!
Let your heart lead you from this day forward.
AWESOME! You go, girl!
I still remember visiting you at (y)our old house and you playing "Country Roads" for me. Next to the Orange Crush frisbee marathons, that's one of my fondest memories of our "forever and a day" friendship.
I am SO proud of you. (And E.)
DS, I loved your painting. Can't wait to see some of your sculptures. What are we thinking when we give up passions that are so dear to us? Thanks for your kind words.
Let your heart lead you from this day forward. That's good advice, Shaddy. Thanks.
KJ, good thing I only played "Country Roads" - if I sang it to you your memory of that day would not be so fond! You made me smile, old friend. Your words mean a lot to me.
Practice, I knew I was forgetting something. I'm a strummer with limited finger picking skills (RE: I'm not very good)and being able to make music, even with my limited skill, is a wonderful escape. Keep practicing and when we meet on Gully's deck we can pick while the other's write.
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