I always envision this blog to be a forum for me to wax poetic about my observations - both small and grandiose - about life and how I engage in it. And then, life gets in the way, and the sweetest moments that deserve, if not demand, time for savoring and appreciation are gone in a heartbeat. And then we forget, we move on, and plug away.
But two nights ago, one such moment took place and I had the rare opportunity to just sit back and just take it all in. I heard the melodious sound of my son, David, now 13 years old, strumming on his guitar.
David has been studying guitar for a number of years, and he now owns both acoustic and electric guitars. They are happily displayed next to his drum set in our loft. He loves his guitars. Without being reminded to practice, he goes upstairs on his own accord, grabs a guitar and spends quality time with one of his musical treasures. It's like his own meditation or prayer. And, the older he has become, the more intricate and complex his musical musings ... much like, I assume, his evolving personality
So, David' picking up the guitar and playing on his own accord is not new to us. But there was something about the music he was playing two nights ago - its thoughtfulness, its intricacy, something - that stopped me in my tracks. I heard these special musical notes wafting down to the first floor of the house, and I paused. I listened ... not just to the music, but to David's process of working through chords and a melody. It was nothing short of beautiful.
Soon enough, I heard him call down to me, "good night, mom. I'm going to bed. Love you!"
If this is any indication of what David's teenage years will be like, we all will be just fine.
Oh, sweet boy, I love you, too. Everything about you.
