What's in a Song?

[Woodenvelt]

Music is one of the many ways we identify ourselves in this world, both to ourselves and others. I have a wide range of taste in music, but for the most part I am a rocker girl. Alternative rock, classic rock, hair bands, even emo rock... I like it all. I am not a snob about it either. That's right, I like Nickelback even if they are generic, mass manufactured, soul sucking minions of the man.

Every once in a while, though, this strange mood steels over me. It happens often on rainy, Sunday mornings when the sky is gray and the world is still. I feel this bone deep need for steel guitars. Somewhere in the pit of my stomach nothing but bluesy, folksy voices roughened by smoke and booze and hard living will do and I'm not talking about the Rolling Stones.

On these days, I find myself cueing up Willie and Merle, Johnny and even David Alan Coe. Country's bad boy balladeers wash over me with voices as rough as road rash and take me back in time. When I hear their voices, I hear my father serenading me when I was just a child. With a guitar fresh out of the pawn shop, a cigarette tucked between the frets, two fingers of whiskey in his Coke, and Willy Nelson's words on his lips my father shared his music with me.

He will never win any awards for father of the year. For much of my life he was absent and when he was present, he was an inconstant force. My mother raised me on her own because my father couldn't take care of himself, much less a wife and a child. It was difficult and unfair to her and I do not know if she will ever forgive him, not for what he did to her but rather what he didn't do for me. Despite that, there are gifts my father has given to me that are priceless. Those gifts tempered my childhood disappointment with acceptance and helped me find something resembling peace in my heart.

The greatest gift my father gave me was unconditional love. Though my visits with him were rare, sometimes years apart, and often brief he told me simply, honestly, and often that he loved me. He told me for as long as I could remember that I was the best thing he had ever done in this world. As a child I knew the truth of those words and they sheltered my heart in an unbreakable sort of armor. No matter what anyone else ever said or thought about me, my father thought I was the best thing in this world. No words, no matter how cruel and sharp edged could scratch that. My mother might have worked long  hours to feed and clothe me and done all the hard and thankless jobs that come with parenthood, but she never said those simple words the way he did. Between the two of them, I learned one of the Great Truths of Parenthood. It is not enough to tell your kids you love them. Nor is it enough to show them you love them by providing for them. You must do both.

One of my father's favorite ways to tell me he loved me was through songs. He sang to me every time he saw me. A variety of old country western songs were his love notes to me. When we were far apart, which was often, hearing them on the radio brought him back to me. My father didn't just sing the songs either. He lived them. He grew up in smokey honkey tonks, did time in jail, and has spent a good portion of his life drunk, high, or both. He has given me plenty of reasons to resent him, but more compelling ones to forgive him. As Willie says "love is the greatest healer to be found." The songs he shared with me are peppered with bits of wisdom that is etched eternally upon my heartstrings. When I hear Johnny Cash's baritone waiver over the sounds of a guitar chord or Willy Nelson's thin reedlike tones, what I really hear is my father saying "I love you."

[Mary0791]

Oct. 4, 2009 at 7:07 PM

What a sweet love note to a man who gave you, in his own way, what so many of us search our whole lives for...the amazing feeling of self-worth every child needs.  Even though your father was absent for long periods of time, he gave you what many "present" fathers never do.

[Guinhyvar]

Oct. 4, 2009 at 11:49 PM

Well, I love you Sam. Lots and lots.

[Cairebaire]

Nov. 16, 2009 at 1:07 PM

You got me, Girl!  Straight through my wee, sentimental heart!!  You ROCKZ my SOCKZ!!  You inspire me, My Word Temptress!!  TRULY!!  Keep on remembering.... Keep on writing.... Keep on loving.... Keep on being YOU!!  (I don't want to get all "Stalkerish" on you, but it seems as though that's where this unhinged trailer is a-heading, eh??  No disrespect.  Much love, tis all!!)  Hugglez!

~ Carrie*

P.S. ~ If you read my previous reply to one of your journals (TIG), my Overly Enthusiastic Gushing will make more sense.  Or not.  (Hee!)

[saltycoqui]

Nov. 18, 2009 at 10:05 PM

Love Willie! :D