Music

I have always wanted to be able to sing. I often hear music that touches me. Inspires me. Changes me. I have always thought that it would be the most incredible gift to influence others in such ways. More than that, it has the power to bring peace to my own chaotic thoughts.
I was born with less-than-average vocal chords. As much as I will them to sound in tune, melodic, and light. They always seem to fall short. Growning up in a large family, I often had people screaming at me to shut-up everytime I opened my mouth to sing with the radio. I understand. A tone deaf individual belting out her made up words of Girls Just Want to Have Fun....disturbing. I couldn't help it though. My soul needed the music.
My oldest brother is a saint. Some of my life's biggest lessons have been taught by his words and actions. He used to play in a band. He has an uncanny ability to pick up an instrument and play. A natural. I envied his talent. I think I was hoping at some point, some of it might rub off on me. I was seven or eight when he started playing for me. Expose, Madonna, Sophie B. Hawkins were amongst the sheets of music. We would sit at the piano together and sing. He never had a negative comment about my voice. He never asked me to shut-up. He never pushed me away so he could have his own practice time. These special moments continued throughout my life. Even as I have lived a chunk of my adulthood in other states, I know when I visit he will be there waiting with the now rather thin, worn sheets of music.
Learning to play the guitar was added to my list around seventeen when I left home. No longer did I have access to a piano. and to me, guitar was a way to serenade more singing. I couldn't understand those who chose instruments like the flute or the saxophone. They make beautiful music but it seemed to me rather useless if you couldn't sing along with it.
I began guitar lessons in CA but when I moved I was forced to stop. I picked them up again about five weeks ago. Being tone deaf makes it difficult to tune and play but I have come to love the quiet times in the middle of the day where I can pick up my own copies of the songs my brother used to play and remember those moments.
Music is such an incredible gift. I often wish that I was blessed with some form of it and that I didn't have to work so hard at it. I am so thankful to a brother who never considered me a failure, merely someone who just "needed more practice".