I’m busy doing what I’m always doing, looking at music, trying to learn, trying to write, trying to stay one step ahead.
A text from a guitar student’s mom, asking if I am home. I always hesitate since the Pandemic started, not much for socializing, my choice. She states that her daughter, my student, Dakota has something for me.
It makes me wonder, so I reply that yes, I am home, they can stop over.
I don’t get to spend one on one time with Dakota; we’re using Zoom for her lessons.
Our biggest struggle is keeping her camera at an angle so that I can see her hands; I have become very familiar with her ceiling fan.
My doorbell rings, its Dakota and her Mom, Cindy. They have a present for me.
I immediately go into my uncomfortable state, never have been good at receiving.
They know that it’s my Birthday this week and they wanted to give me a gift.
A pretty bag with presents inside, I put it aside and make small talk.
I ask if I’m supposed to open it now, they both nod yes, so I do.
Inside, I find a tiny guitar case with a tiny guitar and a small wooden box with the words: “Music is what feelings sound like.”
I’m touched at their kindness, their thoughtfulness, the time they took to make me feel special upon this day.
I will always be in awe of the many gifts that music presents, the friendships and families that I’m allow entrance, all because of something made of wood and strings.
