Remember when it all started, deep in the forbidden bedroom of a boy who played Stairway to Heaven on an old, yellowish acoustic guitar? I don't know if it was for the boy, or because the song was so sad and pretty (I'm pretty sure it was to impress the boy), I wanted to learn to play. I taught myself on my parents' old guitars which were years out of tune, until I decided to buy you.
Remember Jeremy took me to that small hole-in-the-wall guitar store? You were hung up high, your black body shining down on me. No other guitar even caught my eye. Jeremy asked if I wanted to play you first, to see how you sounded, and I said sure, even though that was not my first concern. I guess I should have paid more attention. At the time, the only thing that mattered was that you were beautiful, sleek, almost sexy.
We'd play together for hours, remember, in my bedroom? Remember when Dad stopped by one day and said, "Danae, that is so pretty," and we both beamed for days?
If I could only see then how significant you were, how my entire life would ride on our choices together.
We started branching out, me and you, with a courage hard to imagine. We played open mike nights for gosh sakes, at small, crowded coffee houses. I remember the first time, my gut twisting and my body sweating as we waited for our turn to play. When it finally was time, you were completely out of tune and I was so nervous I couldn't hear straight to fix you. I never really knew how to tune you by ear anyway. A kind, very encouraging friend offered to help while the listeners fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats. Yeah, we've been through some seriously embarrassing moments together.
There's been good times too. Times were you were in tune, and so was I, and we blended together seamlessly, our music filling high ceilings. One of the best times was on the beach at Tahoe, playing that song we wrote together for Angel's wedding. With Joey. And his red guitar.
You were the one that led me to Joey's house in the first place. I would never had a reason to be there if it weren't for you. And then one day as we sat on one couch and he sat on the other, playing his own guitar with his feet stacked right on left, Joey and I fell in love.
You started all that, you know.
We've played for seniors in wheel chairs with drool hanging out one side of their mouths; we've played for wiggly preschoolers with wide eyes; we've played at weddings and church and camp and school. We've gone everywhere together.
And now it's time to say goodbye. Because you never stay in tune, darn you. You are memories now.
Goodbye guitar.
Remember Jeremy took me to that small hole-in-the-wall guitar store? You were hung up high, your black body shining down on me. No other guitar even caught my eye. Jeremy asked if I wanted to play you first, to see how you sounded, and I said sure, even though that was not my first concern. I guess I should have paid more attention. At the time, the only thing that mattered was that you were beautiful, sleek, almost sexy.
We'd play together for hours, remember, in my bedroom? Remember when Dad stopped by one day and said, "Danae, that is so pretty," and we both beamed for days?
If I could only see then how significant you were, how my entire life would ride on our choices together.
We started branching out, me and you, with a courage hard to imagine. We played open mike nights for gosh sakes, at small, crowded coffee houses. I remember the first time, my gut twisting and my body sweating as we waited for our turn to play. When it finally was time, you were completely out of tune and I was so nervous I couldn't hear straight to fix you. I never really knew how to tune you by ear anyway. A kind, very encouraging friend offered to help while the listeners fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats. Yeah, we've been through some seriously embarrassing moments together.
There's been good times too. Times were you were in tune, and so was I, and we blended together seamlessly, our music filling high ceilings. One of the best times was on the beach at Tahoe, playing that song we wrote together for Angel's wedding. With Joey. And his red guitar.
You were the one that led me to Joey's house in the first place. I would never had a reason to be there if it weren't for you. And then one day as we sat on one couch and he sat on the other, playing his own guitar with his feet stacked right on left, Joey and I fell in love.
You started all that, you know.
We've played for seniors in wheel chairs with drool hanging out one side of their mouths; we've played for wiggly preschoolers with wide eyes; we've played at weddings and church and camp and school. We've gone everywhere together.
And now it's time to say goodbye. Because you never stay in tune, darn you. You are memories now.
Goodbye guitar.
3 comments:
so sad and bittersweet... a joyful memoriam for something so precious to you! :) I almost cried :)
you gettting a new one?
daelynn
of course. Joey's red one. It's easier for me to play. It's a beaut.
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