Serenade

Stopped by J2’s office Thursday evening. He whipped out his…. guitar. Get your mind out of the gutter, you sickos! You are the same sickos that think “I have to go walk the dog” is a euphemism.

He played for me and I loved every moment of it. He just started playing guitar two months ago. He is an excellent pianist, so it isn’t a surprise that he is picking this up so quickly.

It reminded me of my youth. As strange as they were, I miss the days where the whole family would drive to Portland. All the aunts and uncles and cousins would be there. The adults would drink and smoke and sing and play guitar until all hours of the morning. Regretfully, us kids would make card houses, fear the nicotine stained clowns in the bathroom, and be frightened by the life-size Bartles & James cardboard cutout at the top of the stairs. None of us learned to play guitar.

Things haven’t been the same since Nana and Grump became ill and passed away. There is no one place where we all gather. We used to know where to go to see our extended family, but the house on Elm Street has been sold and the family has spread further apart.

I guess this is the point in life when our parents become the head of the family. And instead of playing guitar, someone brings a Wii and we play Wii tennis and bowling, then go to LL Bean in the middle of the night.

I miss the music.

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