it’s in the music

I grab the neck of my guitar at its center—holding it as if it’s a weapon. Some days it is. Some days it’s a security blanket. Occasionally, it’s a shield that protects me from every challenge thrown my way. After playing for nearly eighteen years, now there are two young men that depend on me to keep them secure. I know I need to keep playing for them because it keeps all of us going. It keeps us safe.

I can’t deny that is tough when the daily tasks pile up. Some days I trudge through with barely enough energy to eat. On those days, I look for any simply way to expose them to music. We listen to kids radio and sing our hearts out. I sing familiar lullabies. I write and sing my own lullabies. We play Beatles music and my oldest picks out the drum beats to play along on his drum set.

I learned to trust that the six-stringed hunk of wood that I’ve held close to my heart will get me through the worst moments. And it will help celebrate the best ones. In fact, it means so much to me that we named my youngest son after it. It’s only fair that I share that love with my children.

baby playing guitar by tara m waysok

The constant exposure to music works. Our ten month old strums along with me on my guitar. Then he searches endlessly for any drum sticks that are lying around. He chews on them for a second, then crawls over to the drum and bangs away until he gets that loud, crisp “rhythm” he was looking for. When he has a rough day, the only thing that gets him through the tears is listening to his brother tap wildly on the drum pads. His brother would do anything to make him happy; and the bright beats are calming to both of them. I hope that this connection with music stays with them forever.


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