I lay the old guitar on my lap, and strum.
The strings are not in tune, but the instrument is so familiar.
I pick out a few cords, find my keys, and start to tune up my grandfather’s guitar.
It’s a well played, and much beloved part of the family.
Can I do it justice?
I see the indentations made by my grandpa. He would play and sing for us, every chance he got.
He was raised in the hills of West Virginia. Blue Grass, Gospel, Folk music in his blood. He would play. I can still hear him. It would make him so happy, if we would just sit and listen to the music in his soul.
I could find, G. I could find D. C sounded terrible. F eluded me, I think I’m still not tuned right.
The warm ups came back, and I was able to get to G minor, but F….where is F? F minor?
Just a little reminder, and a little effort. A little toughening of the finger tips. It will come back, and I can wear those frets out a little more.