I bought a guitar.
This is actually the first guitar I have owned, but not the first time that I’ve tried to learn to play. My dad plays guitar, and some of my fondest childhood memories are of singing along with his playing. So the first time I tried to learn guitar was in my youth.
I never got very far. I always thought my hands were too small for my dad’s guitar. I’ve since come around the idea that maybe if I practice putting my fingers in those positions, I’ll get better at it.
The second guitar that I put some real practice into belonged to my ex-husband. Well, technically, it belonged to his father. Neither of them, as far as I know, actually plays. I mean, maybe my ex does now, I haven’t heard from him in over a decade by now. I tried to buy that guitar off of him. It was a sweet little classical guitar, and I offered to buy it off him, but he refused.
I suppose I can’t blame him for wanting to hold onto something of his dad’s, considering the way his dad pretty much abandoned him, his mom and his sister in favor of a new family. But I really wish I had been able to keep that guitar.
I hadn’t played one in years, but after spending some evenings at the Big Creek Lodge this summer, where the innkeepers would have an informal jam session, with playing and singing, I got the urge. I still have a flute, though I haven’t played that in quite some time, but it isn’t the same. I want to be able to sing along while I play. Plus, the flute is very loud, and I live in an apartment building.
The guitar is pretty loud, I suppose, but it doesn’t feel as loud as the flute. And it’s definitely less shrill in tone. I’m inspired by a guy named Chuck, who played along with the innkeepers even though he’s still learning and makes mistakes. He reminded me that it’s all about practice if you want to get better, and they all reminded me that it’s okay to make mistakes while playing.
So, I’m going to practice. I’m going to play – not just play music, but play. And I’m going to have fun.