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December 04, 2007
I was sitting and playing my guitar the other day. I hit one of the strings and the ensuing note struck a chord deep inside me. It was an interesting trigger. In a nanosecond the sound took me back in time to where that chord first embedded itself in my soul.
It's incredible how fast it happened. One minute I was sitting in my studio with my guitar and the next second I was a boy of nine or ten sitting in my bed in the middle of the night.
I'm not sure what woke me up, but I got scared and went to my parent's room to see if they were awake.
If I was afraid at night I would sometimes get out of bed and stand by the door of my parents room just to hear them breathe. The slow, steady sound always soothed me.
That night, as I approached my parent's room, I noticed that the light was on in my dad’s studio.
I tiptoed up the stairs and peeked into the door.
The light from the desk lamp bathed the room in a warm light.
My dad was hunched over his drawing board with his elbows on the table and his face resting in his hands.
I didn't want to disturb him, so I just stood and watched.
His radio was on softly. The Mama's and the Papa's were singing California Dreamin'.
I have always loved the opening chord from that song.
Finally I cleared my throat.
My dad looked up.
"Oh, hi Trev," he said, extending his arms toward me. "How's it going my boy?"
"You okay?" I asked, as he wrapped his arms around me.
"I’m fine. Just a lot to think about," he said, ruffling my hair.
I knew that we were struggling financially and my dad was desperately trying to make a living as an artist. It really hurt him that he could not support us like he wanted to.
"Is it money?" I asked.
"Among other things," he said. "You couldn't sleep either, huh?"
"Yeah," I said, snuggling into his chest.
I felt safe and secure wrapped in his arms.
"Can I help?" I said, leaning back and looking into eyes. (I was saving for my very first guitar and I had a jar full of coins sitting on my windowsill.)
I would happily have given him every cent.
"Yeah, you can help," he said, softly.
"How?" I asked.
"C'mere and hold me," he said, putting his arms around me again.
I held my dad for the longest time.
Posted by trevor at December 4, 2007 03:10 PM
Comments
Hi Trevor. These kinds of stories are becoming little lessons for me now that I'm on the way to becoming a dad. ;)
Here's one I found on another blog that I thought you might enjoy:
http://kimsaxton.blogspot.com/2007/11/eleanor.html
Posted by: Steve Caddy at December 6, 2007 01:08 AM