And I know that... and still I am sad. I don't know what the insurance company will make of this or if I'll be able to replace my old friend with one that plays with such resonance? Somebody said to me, "Remember man, things could be worse" as if that's consolation. (People say the stupidest things when they are trying to be helpful.) The lead article from the editor's desk of the Christian Century pointed this out in something called "words for the grieving." John Buchanan writes:
My friend Kim Bobo... recently lost her husband of 31 years. In an article in the Chicago Tribune she offers advice on what not to say to someone who has lost a dear one, particularly when the death is sudden and unexpected. (NOTE: trust me I know the difference between a living being and my guitar, ok? At the same time, trust me that we were intimate, too. You non-musicians will just have to take that on faith.) There are definitely some comments to avoid, Bobo observes. Avoid saying: God planned it for starters or God called him home, God knows you can handle it and God knows that your loved one was ready.... Also avoid saying: I know just how you feel - and then following it with the story of your own experience of loss... a grieving person doesn't want to hear everyone else's death stories. Avoid "these things come in threes... are you going to sell your house?... you should..." Advice is just annoying. (Rather) acknowledge the pain and shock... (www.christiancentury.com)
Sadness is natural - so in anger - and neither are to be avoided. Not in an obsessive way for sure, but honestly. Look, I spent more time with my guitar over the past 10 years than I have with almost any one friend besides Dianne and, save the callouses, they were sweet and beautiful and satisfying times, too. George Harrison once sang, "All Things Must Pass," just as the Hebrew wisdom teacher observed that to all things there is a season. For a bit of time, this will be my season to be sad - and quiet - until this season passes. I am going to honor it - and my old wooden friend - rather than fake it or make myself too busy to feel it.
Some friends are taking us to see Mary Chapin-Carpenter and Marc Cohn tonight - just what the doctor ordered.
7 comments:
Missed your post yesterday. That really sucks.
Doesn't it!
So sorry about your guitar RJ. I've only just discovered this. I'm guessing it's like an amputation as a musician's instrument is an extended limb, but please God the music is still in you and that can never be stolen !!Blessings
An acoustic guitar is a living thing, I have discovered. It begins life young, as in full of potential, but its best sound begins only with age and playing. Just as a human being (IMO) has a wisdom and maturity with age, so, too, does an acoustic guitar become its best with age. In or words, I am talking about a crude parallel to what we describe in humans as growth.
And we musicians develop a relationship with our instruments. It can't really be otherwise, given the time and effort we need to spend with our instruments to make anything of worth happen. The longer we spend with them, the deeper the relationship. We perceive our instrument's individuality, which is partly intrinsic and partly the result of our playing, something that is individual to each of us. While this relationship is not by any means the same as with people, but the parallel is a strong one.
It follows that if we lose our instrument for whatever reason, we grieve. This is a bereavement not unlike one we would feel on losing a spouse or a child, though of a different degree, to be sure. Getting another guitar is really a stopgap--there is no real replacing of a finely-built guitar (and a Taylor is up there among the best) with which you've spent so much of your time and wrought such music.
I really feel for you and with, James. I will add, with some care, that a local musician friend lost his Jean L'Arivee guitar in very similar circumstances. A year later, he got a phone call--someone had heard of his loss and had recently bought a guitar that answered the description of Rodney's. Rodney had to fork over some money, but now has his guitar safely back with him. One never knows...
Prayers and thoughts still with you...So sorry for this loss!
I am so grateful for your loving concern - you guys get it - and to be loved and heard in this strange loss is a blessing. My sister-in-law said, "The theft of a beloved instrument is just a crime to the thief, but feels like a kidnapping to the musician." Ain't that the truth. Lots of love and gratitude to you all.
And Peter, my man, you NAILED it!
This is awesome!
Post a Comment